


Just Friends

by Thundersnow (pieprincess_andthe_fallenangel)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen is an Idiot, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Eddie Thawne Lives, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flashpoint Didn't Happen (DCU), Fluff, Humour, Legends of Tomorrow Didn't Happen, Lisa Likes to Meddle, M/M, Oblivious Barry Allen, Oblivious Leonard Snart, Post-Episode: s02e03 Family of Rogues, Secret Identity, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, and a little bit of plot thrown in too, but he's Len's idiot so that's okay, but nothing worse than what you would find in a YA novel, or on the show itself for that matter, secret friendship, sex references too, supportive friends, though Barry doesn't know that he's in a fake relationship, vague-ish sex jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 139,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22423102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieprincess_andthe_fallenangel/pseuds/Thundersnow
Summary: Barry had the worst luck. All he’d wanted to do was ask Snart for a favour but, somehow, he’d stumbled his way into a Rogues meeting, and now Barry found himself stuck in a bar, surrounded by his enemies, with Captain Cold of all people as his only friend. What could go wrong?Len knew the second that he saw Lisa approach what she would think; Barry was just too open, too caring, too tactile. And Len was letting Barry get away with it all. He knew what that would look like; but he also knew that going along with this little lie, letting his Rogues all believe that he and Barry were dating – no matter how absurd that idea might be – was the best way of getting Barry out of there with his secret identity unscathed… So, the Rogues were drinking with the Flash tonight. No big deal.When it suddenly became a regular occurrence, however… well, that's when things started getting a little more complicated.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Rogues (The Flash), Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, The Flash / Captain Cold
Comments: 1122
Kudos: 1354





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill from an anon I received the other week on Tumblr who requested a fic where Barry and Len don’t know that they’re dating. And, damn, it certainly ran away from me. I’d only planned on writing around 1k, but this happened instead...
> 
> Also, I've nearly finished drafting the entire fic now, so you should expect an update about once or twice a week :)
> 
> Brazilian Portuguese translation can be found [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/252469245-just-friends-hist%C3%B3ria-traduzida)

The first time that Barry stumbled into a Rogues meeting had been an accident. He’d been tracking down Snart, looking for his help on a particularly bad case Barry was working on which he just couldn’t quite figure out – something which he’d been doing more often than not these days… not to Team Flash’s approval.

Of course, Barry had found Snart inside Saints and Sinners, leaning against the bar as he waited to be handed his beer. What he hadn’t noticed at the time, though – and yeah…. maybe Oliver had a point about how he should be casing his environment more before making a move – was that the bar was suspiciously lacking in customers for a Thursday night. The only other patrons there was a table of metahumans, sitting and awaiting Snart’s return.

So, when Barry entered the bar and didn’t hesitate before striding confidently up to Snart’s side… well, people noticed.

“Get lost, Kid,” Snart grunted, not turning to look his way. Barry was admittedly surprised by that reaction: Snart had often been a tad hostile in their negotiations in the past in an attempt to gain and keep the upper hand, but he’d never been so abrupt and dismissive before. He’d _always_ heard Barry out. Even when he’d been up against Lewis.

The sudden change in approach put Barry on red alert. In hindsight, maybe he should have put together what was going on around him, but at the time all Barry had thought about was making sure that Snart was okay. He hesitated for a second, figuring that Captain Cold was the kind of guy who usually avoided physical contact, before placing his hand atop Snart’s forearm – his movements slow and careful enough to allow the criminal to pull away if he wanted to.

“What’s going on?” Barry implored, the reason why he’d come here in the first place temporarily forgotten as he waited to see what had made Snart act so, for the lack of another word, _cold_. Snart didn’t visibly tense at Barry touch, but he did grit his teeth. A second later, and he was purposefully pulling his arm out from under Barry as he moved to grab the beer which the bartender had settled down in front of them.

“Barry… you have no idea what you just walked into,” he warned. “I suggest you leave before–”

“Lenny!”

Too late.

Barry felt his eyes widen, and his jaw drop as he heard the click of heels on the hardwood floor to signal _Lisa Snart_ approaching them. He recovered his expression as best as he could before dropping his eyes to the bar beneath his fingers and hoping to go unnoticed. But he knew it was too late for that now even before Lisa stationed herself between them and draped her arm over the back of Barry’s stool.

“Who’s your cute friend?” she asked, looking Barry up and down, her lips twisted into an unnerving grin.

“I’m…” Barry opened and closed his mouth a couple of time, trying desperately to recall a name. What was it that he’d said to Snart’s father? Did it begin with an S? Fuck. He’d had the chance to prepare a backstory the last time he’d done this, but tonight Barry hadn’t anticipated anyone else being there and was left gaping, his mind filled with nothing but glaring white noise which threatened to give him a migraine. And now this was _definitely_ taking too long. Lisa was going to get suspicious. Forget the story that he’d come up with before; it wasn’t important, anyway. _Any_ name would do. Anything other than… “Barry,” he eventually said, and instantly felt like facepalming.

He was such an idiot.

“Barry,” Lisa said, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lisa.”

“Right, uh, yeah,” Barry stumbled, his face was burning hot. He cast a glance over to Snart, seeing the tense and calculating way that he was watching the interaction play out. “Lenny’s told me a lot about you,” Barry said, thinking it was a safe bet. If the way that Snart’s eyes rolled upwards as though he was praying for God to strike him down was any measure, however, Barry had royally fucked up.

“Oh, _did_ he now?” Lisa purred, her gaze _finally_ leaving Barry’s face to smirk at Snart instead. Returning a second later with a spark of mischief in her eyes. “You and my brother must be very close,” she said, and Barry was instantly shaking his head.

“No, no, not really,” Barry insisted. “We’re just… drinking buddies,” Barry continued, not sure of any other explanation – apart from the inconvenient truth – for why he would know Leonard Snart. And if Snart talking about his sister _was_ a rare occurrence, then this would cover it, right? People let all kinds of information spill once they’d gotten a drink or two in them. Plus, it would explain why Barry would know to look for Snart here, a bar of all places. Barry was quite happy with his impromptu lie, actually. That was until he saw the way that Snart closed his eyes in a wince, and Barry knew that he was digging himself into a bigger and bigger hole.

“Oh, well if that’s the case,” Lisa grinned. “You should join us!”

“Barry was just leaving,” Snart finally cut in, his voice dull and to the point, leaving no room for argument.

“Nonsense,” Lisa objected, not caring for her brother’s orders as she hooked her arm around Barry’s and half-dragged him off the stool and towards a table at the back of the bar. A table already surrounded by – oh… oh, _no_.

This was not good.

Barry’s feet stumbled as he gave a half-aborted attempt to stop, but Lisa just kept on going. And if she’d noticed Barry’s hesitation, then she didn’t say anything as she plonked Barry down on a seat near the head of the table, right next to _Weather Wizard_.

And he was _far_ from the only meta which the Flash had locked away sitting at this table.

“Everyone, this is Barry,” Lisa introduced, her voice far too sweet. “Barry, this is Mark, Shawna, Hartley, Axel,” Lisa said, gesturing down the table at each villain as she went. “James, Roy, Rosa, Sam…” _Sam_! That was the name Barry had used before. Well, he guessed it was too late for that now… “And I’m assuming you know about Mickey here, already,” Lisa finished, having worked her way back up to the top of the table again. She waved her hand towards where Mick Rory sat opposite Barry, glaring him down.

God help him, Barry was going to die tonight. He was sure of it.

“Don’t I know you?” Mark Mardon asked, eying Barry, and Barry thought that he might just throw up.

“No,” Snart said, appearing beside Barry and taking the last seat at the head of the table. He used the same tone of voice as he had done earlier, commanding and leaving no room for argument or question. It worked much better on Mardon than it had on Lisa.

The atmosphere at the table was tense, everyone’s eyes were on him, and Barry was giving his best effort at a smile. Though he suspected it was very unconvincing by the way which Lisa grinned at him before she stalked around the table towards Mick, pushing his arm out of the way and sitting down across his lap. Barry just blinked at her. The way she did it was so casual, as though she didn’t have a care in the world about the fact that she was _sitting on Heatwave’s lap_. Apparently, she didn’t. She even swiped the glass from his hand and took a swig of his drink, only earning herself a half-hearted glare from the man in return.

Snart relaxed a little more, avoiding looking straight at Barry, though Barry was having a hard time looking anywhere else, feeling anxious whenever he accidentally made eye contact with any of the other criminals around the table. Snart, at least, was the closest thing to a friend that Barry had in this room.

Another awkward second passed, then Snart raised his beer bottle in a toast, and everyone else at the table lifted their own drinks.

“To the Rogues,” Snart said, and his team echoed the statement. He sent Barry a quick wink, so fast that Barry almost didn’t see it, as he brought his bottle to his mouth. Barry wished to God that he had a drink too, if only because it would give him something to do.

“Fuck the Flash!” Lisa cheered, having stolen Mick’s drink again, gaining a _‘here, here_ ’ from James Jesse at the other end of the table along with a whoop of support from Shawna. Snart didn’t look at Barry this time, but he was smirking, even with the bottle still pressing to his lips.

The tension at the table seemed to break then, as though they had been waiting for Snart’s signal. The members of Snart’s Rogues began talking, and laughing, and slouching in their seats. And Barry relaxed a fraction. It wasn’t a planning session, it seemed. More of an after-party. A team hangout rather than a meeting… Maybe that was why Snart let him stay? Sure, Barry had kind of dug them into a bit of a hole just now, but he was sure that Snart could have found a way out of it if he’d tried. Instead… well, he actually seemed to be _enjoying_ Barry’s discomfort. That bastard.

“So, Barry,” Lisa began, still sitting comfortably in Mick’s lap, though she had given him his drink back now. “How long have you known my brother for, exactly?” Oh, God, _why did she keep asking him questions_?!

“Exactly? Oh, I don’t know,” Barry brushed off, smiling politely. The truth was they’d known each other now for a little over 2 years, but the truth was awfully complicated. “How long would you say, Lenny?” Barry deflected.

“A few months,” Snart shrugged after sending Barry a brief look which Barry didn’t have the slightest _clue_ for how to decode. It probably was just some way of telling Barry that he was an idiot, which, yes, okay, he already knew that.

He turned back to the others at the table, noticing the way that so many of the Rogues were openly staring at him, as though he were some sort of carnival attraction. It made Barry’s skin crawl. Was it really so strange for Snart to have friends outside of the Rogues? Or maybe it had more to do with how Barry looked? He hadn’t bothered changing when he’d shown up tonight, so he was still wearing the same sweater vest and skinny jeans combo that he had done all day at work. He supposed that a hardened criminal like Leonard Snart didn’t usually associate himself with anyone who looked like they could teach in a primary school – as Iris so frequently liked to point out whenever she took Barry shopping with her.

“Hey, Snart?” Sam Scudder called, gaining Cold’s attention. Snart gave Barry and Lisa one more glance before standing up and moving around the table to huddle closer to Scudder and Rosa Dillon and hear whatever they had to say. Barry would have been relieved for that if it didn’t mean he was suddenly left wide open for attack from Lisa, who was still staring him down. Barry honest to God _gulped_ , but he was rescued from any further onslaught by none other than Shawna Baez, who was leaning onto the table and around Mark to look at Barry.

“Only a few months and already at the table, huh?” she said. “So, what do you do, Barry?”

“I, uh, I’m a scientist,” Barry said, hedging around the truth. He had a feeling that no one at this table would take too kindly to finding out what Barry’s _real_ jobs were.

“She means your powers,” Mardon said, making Barry tense. “What do you _do_?”

“Oh, I’m… no, I don’t have any.”

“A regular old muggle, huh?” Hartley added from where he had apparently been eavesdropping.

“Would have thought Snart would have more taste than that,” Mardon said, and Barry frowned, not entirely sure what he was getting at.

“Hey!” Lisa interjected, sounding a little offended.

“We’re all muggles too,” Mick added, and seeing Heatwave quote Harry Potter just about blew Barry’s mind. “You’d be wise to remember that.” Mark raised his hands in surrender, smiling wide to show that he was only kidding, and Mick huffed a laugh before draining the last of his drink. Barry really wished he had a drink of his own at this point. And, as though reading his thoughts, Leonard returned to his seat brandishing a second bottle of beer, which he placed down on the table next to Barry’s hand.

Barry smiled up at him and nodded his thanks. The beer wouldn’t do him any good, of course: Barry couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. But Snart couldn’t know that, and it was a nice gesture. It would do Barry good to have something to occupy his hands with, anyway.

Some of the Rogues had dispersed from around the table, and so Lisa scooched off of Mick’s lap to take Scudder’s empty seat, all the while complaining that Lenny hadn’t brought _her_ a drink. Barry took Mick’s empty glass and poured some of his own beer into it, pushing the tumbler Lisa’s way.

“Such a _gentleman_ ,” Lisa said, nodding her approval.

“Snart,” Mick said, voice lowered slightly. Not to a whisper, but miles quieter than his usually booming voice. “What’d Scudder want?”

“Same old, same old,” Cold shrugged off, though even _Barry_ could read the ‘ _I’ll fill you in later_ ’ written in Snart’s eyes. It wasn’t surprising though, of course, that he would want to keep as much of the Rogues business out of Barry’s earshot as he could. Still… something was bothering him about the short exchange, and it took _far_ too long for Barry to place what it was. Mick had called him ‘ _Snart_ ’.

In fact, _everyone_ had called him ‘ _Snart_ ’. It soon dawned on Barry that the only person who ever called Snart ‘ _Lenny_ ’ was Lisa…

And now Barry, apparently.

So _that_ was why Lisa had thought he and Snart were such close friends… why she’d invited him to join them… why she was so damn curious about Barry…

Well, this would have been good information to have been given sooner. Maybe if he’d known, he wouldn’t have got himself stuck in this situation in the first place.

Barry took a big gulp from his beer, wishing to God that it could have some sort of effect on him. Obviously, his prayers went unanswered.

“So, Barry,” Lisa purred, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table as she grinned over at him. Barry _really_ did not like that smile… “How did you meet my brother?” she asked. Barry expected that the truth – that he’d pulled Snart out of an armoured van in an attempt to stop the thief from stealing a priceless diamond – wouldn’t sit well with anyone at this table.

“At a bar,” Barry said quickly, the first reasonable explanation to pop into his head.

“Oh, come on, there has to be more to the story than that,” Shawna prodded, and Barry looked to Snart for his help, but Leonard just smirked back at him, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. He looked far too amused by the whole conversation… So, it didn’t look as though Barry was going to be getting any help from _him_.

Well, _fine_. If Snart wanted to play it this way, then he was about to find out that Barry could play dirty, too.

“It was quiz night down on that karaoke bar on 5th street,” Barry started, laughing to himself when he noticed Snart’s eyes narrow in a warning. “And I think Lenny here got just a little too drunk off of the open tab he’d won, ended up grabbing the mic and singing… what was it? Ice Ice Baby? Yeah, that was it,” Barry nodded to himself, grinning as he turned back to Shawna. “Anyway, _somebody_ had to take care of him. If only to stop him from following it up with a rendition of Smooth Criminal.”

The table fell entirely quiet. And Barry could feel Snart staring daggers into the back of his head. But, if he hadn’t wanted Barry to make up such a preposterous story, then he shouldn’t have enjoyed watching him squirm so much, should he?

The silence ticked on for a little longer, before being suddenly cut by Mick Rory’s booming laugh. Then the entire table erupted into fits of giggles and full-bodied laughter – all except for Leonard.

“Yes, well, I have nothing on Barry here,” Leonard drawled once it began to die down. “You should see some of the videos from back in his show choir days.” Barry’s smile dropped instantly, his face paling… how on earth did Snart now about _that_?! “They’re fantastic.”

“At least I don’t wear Flash themed boxers,” Barry said, trying to think up the most embarrassing anecdote possible, but Snart’s smirk just grew wider.

“Oh, Barry, you _know_ I go commando,” he drawled, and that made Barry’s brain freeze, his eyes flickering down to Leonard’s lap before Barry even knew what he was doing.

“Okay, I’m gonna need a stronger drink,” Lisa said, abruptly standing, Mick, Mark, and Shawna quick behind her, leaving only the two of them at the table. Alone at last, Barry opened his mouth to talk, but Snart shook his head, standing and nodding for Barry to follow, which he did, as they made their way to the exit. Outside, Barry sighed in relief as the breeze cooled down his overheated skin, feeling the anxiety drain from his chest as he took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Having fun, Barry?” Snart drawled, and Barry sighed, turning to glare at Leonard. He took a step closer, dropping his voice low so that their conversation could be kept private from any prying ears inside the bar.

“What the hell, Snart?” Barry demanded, and Snart's smirk only grew.

“And here I was thinking that you’d committed to ‘ _Lenny_ ’,” he quipped, and Barry flushed red with embarrassment at the reminder that this was all very likely _his_ fault, to begin with… but, Goddammit, Snart didn’t have to take so much enjoyment out the situation.

“Are you really going to hold that against me?”

“No, but I might hold _karaoke_ against you,” Leonard replied quickly, stepping forward to close the distance between them even further, his eyes sharp and angry, clashing with the playful smirk he wore on his lips.

“Payback,” Barry muttered, refusing to back down, even as they stood so close now that he could feel the heat radiating off of Snart's body. “If you hadn’t hung me out to dry back there, then none of this would have happened.”

“And if you had any kind of self-preservation, you wouldn’t keep coming to me for help in the first place,” Snart retorted, and Barry rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of this conversation from Joe, thank you very much. “Now, why don’t you run along, Barry,” Leonard drawled. “And _maybe_ I’ll think about not shooting you on sight the next time I see you for that _Vanilla Ice_ comment.”

And, well, Barry didn’t need to be told twice about that, glad to finally have an excuse to leave. Without another word, he turned and stormed away from Saints and Sinners, keeping to a regular human pace until he made his way into a nearby alleyway. And then Barry took off running.

It was only after he was safely back home that he realised he never _had_ got around to asking for Leonard’s help…

[] [] []

“Aww, where’d your boyfriend run off to?” Lisa asked, her eyes sparkling with delight, as Len returned to the bar, sans Barry. Len grit his teeth, deciding not to correct her. After all, there were very few people who could get away with the casual touches which Barry had this night, even fewer who Len would ever allow to call him ‘ _Lenny_ ’. But apparently, _Barry_ was an idiot.

At least he’d hadn’t come up with an obviously fake name this time around…

“You didn’t shoot him, did you?” Shawna asked.

_Not yet_ , Len thought as he mentally imagined a few different ways to knock Barry down a peg or two.

Honestly…

_Karaoke_?

What the hell was the kid thinking?! Len had spent two damn years gaining the respect of these Rogues, and now Barry might have singlehandedly undone all of his hard work in one night.

“Shame; the kid was funny,” Mick muttered, raising his glass to his mouth. Len just sighed, returning to the bar for a shot of vodka and a glass of the strongest whiskey they had in stock.

“Karaoke…” Len muttered to himself as he waited for the bartender to hand him his drinks. He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. His Rogues sure wouldn’t be forgetting about _that_ one for a while. Though Len supposed, it could have gone worse. If Barry hadn’t gone along with the whole boyfriend act; if he’d given Lisa or Mark, or God forbid _Scudder_ , a reason to start asking questions, and they’d discovered who Barry _really_ was…

Well, that wasn’t worth thinking about, really.

But it was over with now, at least. Barry was gone, and Len could just go on pretending as though none of this had ever happened.

Oh, if only…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had considered writing most of this fic as an outsider POV because I thought that would be fun. But I don’t think anything could beat how absolutely oblivious Barry is to every single clue around him. Like, I’m sorry, that is peak humour to me.
> 
> I don’t know who gave me this prompt, but if you’re reading this, thank you so very much! And I hope you are liking it so far :D


	2. Chapter 2

If Barry thought that encounter would be the last Rogues meeting that he would somehow find himself slap-bang in the middle of, he would be greatly mistaken. It was only a week later when Golden Glider and Peek a Boo showed up on Joe’s front porch. They had wicked grins on their faces as Lisa crowded in front of the door while Shawna hung a little further back, leaning against the wooden post on the decking.

“Snart got real moody after you left last week, so we thought we’d do something nice and brighten his day,” Shawna said by way of explanation. For a split second, Barry thought that they had figured out that he was the Flash and were attempting to take him down as a gift for Captain Cold. But they didn’t produce any guns or look even the slightest bit angry, so Barry soon began to relax again.

“Come on, get your ass into gear, Barry,” Lisa said. “We haven’t got all day; my brother is waiting.”

“Err…” Barry muttered, looking between the two Rogues standing in front of him. Barry couldn’t understand why Leonard would give them enough information to find out where Barry lived…

He doubted that the girls would give up so easily if he turned their offer down now, but he _really_ didn’t want Joe to see them here when he got back home from work. Nor for them to see Joe, for that matter… Lisa had already met Barry’s foster father once while working with the Flash, and Barry would do his absolute best not to give her enough information that she could put 2 and 2 together and figure out Barry’s secret identity. Honestly, he was just lucky that she didn’t seem to recognise him from the times they’d run into each other in the past…

So, honestly, thinking everything over like that, what choice did Barry have?

“Okay…” Barry muttered, his heart in his throat as he began to take a step out of the front door.

“Nuh-uh,” Shawna shook her head as she suddenly appeared directly in front of Barry, pressing her hand flat against his chest to stop him. Barry only jumped a _little_ bit at her blatant use of powers in Joe’s front yard. “I have a strict no sweater-vests rule,” she said. “So, if you’re going to be seen with me, then you need to go march that skinny little ass of yours back in that house and get changed, or you’re going topless.”

Barry let out a brief laugh before realising that she wasn’t joking.

“Oh, you mean –?” Barry stuttered, looking to Lisa who just arched an eyebrow his way. “You’re serious?” The women both nodded, Shawna walking forward and forcing Barry to back-step. “O-okay, I’m going,” he said, quickly turning to go back inside the house.

Briefly, Barry wondered if he could get away with slipping out of the back door to escape them, but he figured that would likely do more harm than good. Sighing, he ran – at a regular human pace as the girls were watching him sharply from the porch – upstairs, pulling his sweater vest and shirt up over his head as he went while Lisa let out a loud wolf-whistle and Shawna burst out laughing. He tried not to think too much about their reactions though, more focussed on his current predicament than on whether or not he should feel embarrassed.

Barry went to his closet, wondering whether he owned anything that Shawna would approve of. Eventually, he settled on a plain grey t-shirt paired with his leather jacket, and then walked back downstairs to where Shawna and Lisa were sitting on the steps of Joe’s porch; he received a nod of approval from them both.

“Have to be honest,” Shawna said, smirking up at Barry as he locked up. “I’m kind of regretting giving you the option to get changed after getting a peek at those abs of yours,” she said with a wink, making Barry blush.

“I’d watch yourself around this one,” Lisa warned with a laugh as she stood up and hooked her arm around Barry. “Or, before you know it, you might find your shirt mysteriously going up in flames tonight.”

“I’m betting Snart won’t mind if it did,” Shawna said, a smile on her face which was beginning to make Barry feel nervous. “Hell, he’ll probably give me a raise for it.” Barry couldn’t help but remember the karaoke story which he’d come up with the last time he’d been around Leonard and thought that maybe Shawna was right. Snart certainly wouldn’t mind getting a little payback on Barry for that…

Barry’s nerves kicked into high gear as the girls laughed at his undoubted misfortune while they all piled into Shawna’s sedan.

Leonard did a double-take when Barry walked into the bar this time. He managed to school his surprise quickly, but Barry had seen it, and that single moment had _almost_ made this whole ordeal worthwhile. Lisa led Barry to the front of the table again, pushing him towards the seat at Snart’s right just as she had done the previous week. And just as before, she claimed a place atop Mick’s lap.

“Is this going to be a weekly thing now?” Mick grunted, but he wasn’t complaining about Barry being there so much as how Lisa seemed to like using him as a cushion. There was no real heat behind his words though, and that more than anything made Barry laugh. It was bizarre. At first, Barry had wondered if something was going on between the pair, but the more he saw of them together, the more he realised that their relationship was familial rather than anything else. Like they were brother and sister. It was an odd notion, but Barry couldn’t help thinking that Cisco would be relieved to hear it.

That is if Barry ever told the rest of his team about these impromptu Rogues meetings that he had somehow found himself involved in… which, yeah, that was never going to happen.

Once the customary cheers were made, and the ‘meeting’ had officially begun, Leonard leaned in close, his breath ghosting against Barry’s ear as he whispered low enough that no one else at the table would be able to hear.

“I need to speak to you,” Leonard demanded. “In private,” he added, and Barry nodded, feeling a shiver run down his spine quickly accompanied by goosebumps forming on the back of his arms. It must have been colder in the bar than Barry realised, and it was probably the adrenaline surging through his veins, at being surrounded by his enemies for the second time in seven days, which was making Barry so oblivious to the chill.

Barry stood up, and Leonard brushed his hand against the small of his back as he led Barry away from the table and through a door into a narrow corridor towards the toilets. Only after the door had swung closed behind them did Leonard drop his hand and abruptly stop walking.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Snart demanded. He didn’t raise his voice, but the cold gleam in his eyes did all of the shouting for him. “Didn’t you learn your lesson last week? Are you really in this much of a rush to get yourself killed?”

“Hey! You’re the one who gave Lisa my home address,” Barry countered, also careful not to let his voice get too loud so that they wouldn’t be overheard. “What am I supposed to do when she shows up on my doorstep and drags me here?”

Leonard was silent, and Barry felt dread creeping into his heart.

“You _did_ give Lisa my address, right?” Barry asked.

“She has a way of finding these things out by herself,” Leonard said, and Barry felt real fear bubbling in his stomach. How much, exactly, had she ‘ _found out_ ’? “Cool it, Barry,” Leonard drawled. “She likes you; whatever she may or may not know hasn’t changed that. If it had, you’d know about it.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Barry asked, a little hysterically, though it did actually help him to calm down a bit. Barry turned around, running his hands up through his hair and pulling at it, needing the sting of pain to make him feel grounded again. After a long moment, Barry took a deep breath and turned back to Leonard, nodding. “Fine. Let’s go,” Barry muttered, moving forward to walk past him and back out into the bar area, but Snart raised his arm to block Barry’s way.

“Not so fast,” he drawled, looking Barry up and down, though his eyes kept returning to the mess which Barry must have just made of his hair. “I have a reputation to uphold.” Barry just blinked back at Snart, frowning, wondering what he could mean. Leonard shook his head in response. “And if you’re going to be showing up around here so often, we’re going to need to keep our story straight.”

Barry frowned even further. He hadn’t exactly _planned_ on showing up at another Rogues meeting after tonight. Though, Barry supposed he hadn’t really planned on showing up at these last two, either. So, maybe a bit of forethought would do them some good.

“Fine,” Barry conceded, taking a step back again as Leonard lowered his arm. Barry tried his best to recall everything he’d said last week about his and Leonard’s friendship… he remembered saying that they were drinking buddies, which Barry still thought was a pretty good lie and easy enough to remember. He’d also said that they’d met because Snart got drunk one night and starting doing karaoke, and Barry decided to intervene to save everyone’s earbuds; though, Barry thought it was best not to mention that again if he didn’t want to be shot with the cold gun… “So, we’ve known each other for a few months,” Barry said instead. “How many exactly?”

“Five,” Leonard answered. “Maybe a week or so after I got out of Iron Heights,” he said, casually reminding Barry of his recent prison escape act which two of the men in the next room over had helped him to pull off.

Just fantastic.

Trying not to focus on that too hard, nor on the fact that James Jesse and Mark Mardon had immediately attempted to kill the Flash after the Iron Heights break-out, Barry put his mind back on-task.

“And I guess I’ve already blown my identity now, so I can’t change my story,” Barry muttered, wincing at how stupid he’d been to let his real name slip with Lisa last week.

“Good,” Leonard nodded. “No offence, Barry, but lying isn’t your speciality.”

“I mean… I’m not a _bad_ -”

“Yes, you are,” Snart interrupted before Barry could even finish his sentence. Barry pouted at that. “We can’t tell them that you work for the CCPD, though,” Leonard said, as though it wasn’t already obvious. “Lisa might already know, but she won’t tell anyone. I’ll speak with her about it later.”

“I told Mark I’m a scientist,” Barry said, and Leonard nodded.

“Good cover,” he admitted, and Barry felt a smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t mention STAR Labs, did you?” Snart asked, and Barry shook his head. Honestly, Leonard must have thought that Barry was an _idiot_. Which… okay, yeah, he maybe deserved that reputation a bit… “Good. If it comes up again, you’re an independent contractor. Though I would try to avoid the topic altogether, especially around Hart.”

“Okay, sure, are we done here?” Barry asked. Leonard pulled the sleeve of his leather jacket up to check the time on his watch and shook his head.

“Give it a few more minutes.”

“What? Why?” Barry demanded, remembering at the last second to keep his voice low. Leonard smirked and opened his mouth, obviously about to make some sarcastic jape, but then he closed it again and shook his head.

“Nah, too easy,” Leonard muttered to himself, which only made Barry frown even further. “For obvious reasons, I would avoid mentioning Joe or Iris out there either,” he continued. “Mark still has it out for West, and he might catch on quicker than you’d expect.” Barry nodded; so long as he was here, he was going to do his best not to bring up _any_ of his friends. It was just safer that way. But that brought up an interesting dilemma.

“Does Lisa know I’m friends with Cisco?” Barry asked. He had seen her twice before accidentally crashing these meetings: first when he’d met her at a bar when she was honey-potting Cisco, and more recently last year at Jitters when she'd hunted Cisco down to ask for his help. Barry had assumed she hadn’t been paying him too much attention either time to be able to recognise him now. Still, if she had been doing her research into Barry already, then it was better to be safe than sorry…

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Leonard said after a moment of thought. “Don’t bring him up; but if she asks, don’t deny it.”

“Anything else?” Barry asked, and Leonard checked his watch again before shrugging and moving to the side.

“I think we’re good.”

Barry nodded, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before he pushed forward and re-entered the bar area. He couldn’t help but notice when all eyes turned his way. Barry’s feet stuttered in his stride, and he lifted a hand to his hair in an attempt to fix it, feeling suddenly very self-conscious.

He pushed his nerves aside and made his way back to the table. Leonard didn’t follow, though, and he instead went to join Mick, Bivolo, and Mark Mardon who were leaning at the bar. The Tricksters were standing by the jukebox and messing with something which made Barry’s nerves kick into high gear again. But no-one else seemed to pay them much care, so he guessed whatever they were doing couldn’t be _too_ bad, right? Dillon and Scudder had both disappeared somewhere too, so that just left Lisa, Shawna, and Hartley at the table when Barry joined them.

“Well, I wonder what you and Lenny have been up to,” Lisa drawled as Barry took his seat, her voice was sweet and innocent, but there was that same mischievous glint in her eye again.

“We were just talking,” Barry said, shrugging and trying to be as dismissive as possible without waving any red flags around. He was already trying to come up with a change of topic so that he wouldn’t need to lie about what they were talking _about_.

“Right…” Shawna said, smirking.

“Must have been one hell of a conversation,” Hartley prodded further, and Barry picked the first topic he could think of.

“Anyone like baseball?” he asked suddenly. “I hear the Diamonds played well this week.”

There was a moment of silence which fell across the table before all three of the Rogues suddenly doubled over with laughter. Barry gave a little nervous laugh of his own as he watched their reactions, a little confused by it. There must be some sort of inside joke which he was missing out on. Whatever it was, though, it didn’t really matter in the end. Their laughter was infectious, and Barry felt the knot in his stomach loosen evermore as the seconds ticked on by.

“I think the only diamonds these lot care about are the ones they lift on a job,” Hartley said once the ruckus had died down a little.

“Speak for yourself,” Shawna objected, and then smirked. “I also like the ones which _Mark_ lifts too. So long as they’re heading my way, that is.”

“Okay, serious question,” Lisa said, raising her hand in the air like she was swearing on a bible, though she couldn’t seem to wipe the grin from her lips. “Stolen engagement rings? Tacky or cute?”

Shawna pursed her lips then, throwing a glance over towards the men at the bar. Barry briefly followed her gaze.

“I guess it depends on the ring,” Shawna answered. “Like, if it’s going to be stolen, then it has to _look_ stolen. No tiny rock surrounded by silver shoulders to trick the eye, you know? It has to be the real deal, or what’s even the point?”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if Mark stole you one, then?” Hartley asked, sounding a little unconvinced himself. That gave Barry pause: he hadn’t known that Shawna and Mark were dating.

“Come on now, Hart. We’re nowhere near that point yet,” she said, and Barry couldn’t help but think that she was purposefully hedging the question.

“How long have you been together?” he asked. Shawna grinned back at him.

“A little over eight months,” she said. “So, clearly, we’re too early to be talking marriage.” The look on her face, though, spoke a different story. Barry knew it well; it was the same look plastered on Iris and Eddie’s faces whenever they talked about _their_ upcoming wedding.

“Hey, who says that is too early?” Barry shrugged. “Sometimes, when it’s right, you just know,” he said, earning himself a quirked eyebrow from Shawna.

“You’re not talking from personal experience now, are you, Barry?” she asked, her voice dropping down to a scandalised whisper as she checked over her shoulder dramatically to see if anyone else was in earshot. “You haven’t got a ring box hidden away in that pocket, have you?” she continued, and Barry laughed, a little self-deprecatingly though he tried his best to cover up any pain in the sound. But Barry couldn’t exactly be planning to propose when he had no one to propose _to_.

Iris was still the one to pop into his head whenever he thought of marriage, but only because there had never been anyone else who he’d fallen so deeply in love with before. Though, those feelings were in the past now: Iris was with Eddie, and Barry was happy for them. He’d moved on, he’d dated other people, he’d even started to fall in love with Patty before she’d left him. But now he was alone again. It was like his natural state of being, at this point, as though he wasn’t supposed to find love…

“No, no,” Barry shook his head and lifted his hands to show they were empty. Shawna actually looked a little disappointed at that. “But my parents were only together for three months before they got engaged.”

“Ooh, shotgun wedding?” Lisa teased, and Barry shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“No, it was just what felt right for them,” he said earnestly, giving Shawna a knowing smile which she returned.

“Are they still together?” she asked, and Barry’s smile slipped as the words cut deep into his heart like a dagger. He supposed he should have been expecting that question.

“Err, no,” Barry said, his throat feeling a little tight, the memory was so very recent, but he managed to hold it together. “No, they died.”

“I’m sorry,” Shawna said, and Barry just put on his smile. Hartley changed the topic of conversation after that to an opera opening of all things, and Shawna booed him, making Barry laugh again through the pain in his chest and the sting of the unshed tears in his eyes.

A bottle was placed down next to his hand, and Barry looked up to see Leonard hovering behind him, giving Barry’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he did so. Barry nodded his thanks and took comfort in his touch. It was strange, though, because Barry had never really thought of Leonard as someone who was really so open to casual touches and physical reassurance. He was kind of glad to be proven wrong, actually. Though Barry’s current discomfort had absolutely nothing to do with the Rogues surrounding him, particularly not with the ones he was sitting with at the moment; as strange as it might seem, Barry found he was actually enjoying their company.

Leonard sat down with them, and Mick and Mark both eventually made their way back to the table too, Mark slinging his arm casually over the back of Shawna’s chair.

“What’r’ we talkin’ about?” Mick asked as he settled into his seat, and Barry took a sip of his beer.

“I think Hart wants to hold up an opera house again,” Shawna said casually, and Barry _just about_ managed not to spit his drink everywhere. Thankfully, no one was watching him for his reaction – no one but Leonard that is – as most of the table were now either facepalming or rolling their eyes.

“I’ve told you before, Hartley,” Lisa said, while Barry tried his best not to cough and draw everyone’s attention… he didn’t think it would be a good idea for anyone to start questioning why causally talking about a crime would make Barry so shocked, since they all thought he was such good friends with Leonard Snart. “Your plans are boring.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t need your permission,” Hartley muttered back; Barry cleared his throat a little bit while his eyes continued to water, blinking away his tears as much as possible.

“No, but you do need _mine_ ,” Leonard said, his eyes finally leaving Barry, his voice thick with his Captain Cold drawl. The table fell quiet. After a few seconds, Snart shrugged. “I’ll consider it,” he allowed, and everyone seemed to relax again. Barry cleared his throat again, feeling it continue to burn from where he had accidentally inhaled a tiny bit of his beer in his surprise.

Not being able to take it much longer, Barry quietly excused himself from the table, pretending that he had to make a phone call as he snuck out of the side door into the fresh air and immediately fell into a coughing fit. Finally able to breathe again, Barry sighed and leaned forward against the railing in front of him. He was standing in the smoking area, he realised, though it appeared that none of the Rogues were out here with him. Taking a second to breathe, Barry looked up at the sky, noticing it was nearly a full moon tonight and taking a second to appreciate that.

When he heard the door creak open behind him, the sound of music flooding out of the bar, Barry expected it was Leonard coming to mock him some more. So, when Barry turned around to find Lisa instead, he was quite surprised.

“Not so used to hearing about Lenny’s work, I see,” she drawled, and Barry froze, wondering again just how much she had uncovered about him in one short week. “I guess my brother tends to keep that a bit hush-hush around you,” she muttered, zipping her jacket closed to protect her from the chill in the air. “Reasonable deniability, and all that.”

Barry just nodded, and Lisa smiled at him, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep them warm. She moved closer and leaned forward against the railing, just as Barry had been doing a moment earlier. Barry watched her closely, but she didn’t appear hostile in any way, and so he began to relax again.

“You know, there’s more to my brother than meets the eye,” she said, looking at Barry out of the corner of her eye. “I bet you don’t know how good of a cook he is,” she continued, and Barry lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

“He cooks?” Barry asked, and Lisa laughed, nodding as she turned to face him again.

“Bakes, too,” she said. “Makes the best damn cinnamon buns I’ve ever eaten.” That was… well, that was not at all what Barry had expected to hear. “He’s a real nerd, too,” Lisa continued, and Barry felt like maybe he had accidentally run to another earth again because that just did not sound right _at all_. “He just can’t get enough of Star Wars, you know.”

“Star Wars…?” Barry asked, incredulous, and Lisa smirked.

“That’s right. Only thing he likes better is Game of Thrones,” she continued before leaning in close and dropping her voice low to a scandalous whisper. “If you really want to rile him up, you should ask him what George R. R. Martin is doing.”

Barry gave a shaky nod as Lisa dropped her arm on his shoulder, smiling devilishly in a way only a sister who had just laid out her brother’s most embarrassing secrets ever could. Lisa nodded to the door and led Barry back inside and to the table. Sam Scudder and Rosa Dillon had appeared again now and were slouching in their seats, drinking what appeared to be champagne while Mark rolled his eyes at them.

Barry sat back down, his eyes skipping to Lisa as she perched herself on the table after having lost her seat to Scudder. She gave Barry a wink, her eyes flickering pointedly to her brother, and Barry’s lips twitched with a smile.

“Hey, Len?” Barry asked, testing out the new nickname on his tongue as he didn’t like the idea of calling Snart ‘ _Leonard’_ when none of the other Rogues did, but also wasn’t keen on calling him ‘ _Lenny’_ so often either. Snart looked over at Barry, giving him his full attention, and not seeming to mind the change in his nickname. “What’s George R. R. Martin doing right now?” Barry asked, and he could see Len’s jaw tighten, his eyes squinting in annoyance.

“Not writing,” he bit out, making Lisa and Mick laugh loudly while Barry struggled to keep the grin off of his face.

It turned out that Len wasn’t the only one with a stroke of geeky culture in them either. Before long, the conversation turned to the latest Marvel film and discussing which of the Avengers each of the Rogues would be able to take on. Barry couldn’t help but think that Cisco would have loved to be involved in this particular conversation, and thought how funny it was that the members of Barry’s team and the members of Leonard’s Rogues actually had a few things in common.

Before Barry knew it, it was getting late, and the Rogues began to clear out of the bar while the bartender on staff swept up. As Barry watched, he couldn’t help but wonder how Leonard had come about this deal with the bar’s owner. There were so few Rogues at these meetings, so how could Leonard ever convince someone that it would be worthwhile to effectively close down their business every Thursday night? Barry was about to ask just that when Shawna stood up and pulled on her jacket.

“I’ll see you next week, Barry!” she called as she and Mark left, Mark giving him a nod farewell. Barry smiled and nodded back before anything really caught up with him, and he realised that he wouldn’t see her next week, he _couldn’t_ … She was a Rogue, and Barry was _not_. He couldn’t keep pretending like this. But he found that he kind of wished that he could.

Len sighed beside him and stood up, leaning into Barry’s personal space as he did, so that he could whisper a quick word in his ear.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you next week,” he said, so quiet that Barry’s mind didn’t fully process the words right away, not until after Leonard had stood and walked away to pay his tab at the bar, Barry’s eyes trailing after him as he did.

Did that mean that Leonard actually _wanted_ Barry here? That he actually _did_ think of Barry like a friend, and not just some annoying sometimes-ally that he had to put up with from time to time? That thought made Barry smile, his heart leaping in his chest. The truth was, he liked spending time with Len too, enjoyed sitting here with his friends, enjoyed working together as the Flash and Captain Cold… he even secretly enjoyed going up against Snart when they were on opposites sides too, though if anyone ever called Barry out on that, then he would vehemently deny it.

Barry was still staring after Len as the rest of the Rogues filtered out of the bar, leaving only himself and Captain Cold left. Barry felt like… well, actually, Barry wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he felt like doing. His heart was suddenly beating fast in his chest, flooded with the urge to do… _something_. Whatever it was, it was probably a bad sign, probably something which Oliver and Joe would talk Barry’s ear off for doing. Something stupid like… like agreeing to come back to a Rogue meeting for a third week in a row.

But, no, Barry couldn’t do that. To come back again would be reckless, and stupid, and downright pushing his own luck, and that was what he told himself over and over again as he stood up and left the bar: he _couldn’t_ come back!

… Could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, deciding for the first time ever to write a fic filled with nothing but fluff, stupid shenanigans, jokes, and absolutely _no angst_!  
> Also me, instantly forgetting and casually throwing in the whole ‘dead parents’ line… :/
> 
> PS. In case you didn’t know, that whole GRRM bit near the end is a quote from the show iZombie; the second that I heard it, I knew that it was just a perfect fit for our Lenny, and when I was trying to decide how Lisa might go about her meddling, I just couldn’t get that line out of my head!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a _slightly_ more serious than the last two but, don’t worry, the antics will continue again!

Len was always the first one at the Rogues meetings, that was a part of being the boss in his mind; he should be the first one there and the last one to leave. That meant that he had _plenty_ of time to contemplate. And the thing which was on Len’s mind tonight? Which had been on Len’s mind all week, in fact? Barry Allen.

Len tried to find annoyance in the situation, at Barry’s repeated presence in his life, but it was difficult to muster up. Admittedly, he was enjoying having Barry there. He wouldn’t exactly have planned it this way, and Len would need to be careful to ensure that no details about their upcoming plans made their way to Barry’s ears. But, despite everything which could go wrong here, it was fun. After all, Len always had enjoyed pushing the Flash’s buttons, and this was just one more way to do it.

Standing at the bar, Len thought that over as he ordered himself a beer and waited for the rest of the Rogues to show, waited to see if _Barry_ would show. The bottle was placed down in front of him, and he nodded his thanks to the bartender. It wasn’t necessarily his favourite drink and Len would much rather be drinking a smooth whiskey instead, but he’d never really been much of a public drinker. Life as Captain Cold wasn’t necessarily safe – he’d made a lot of enemies over the years, after all – and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. And so, Len didn’t get _drunk_ , not even with his Rogues. Lisa and Mick were the only ones he could trust to have his back, the only ones who he could actually be unguarded around. The occasional glass or two of whiskey at these meetings was fine, but for the most part, he just stuck to his beers.

Thinking about that, Len let out a short laugh, remembering how this whole thing with Barry had started two weeks ago. Lisa had known that something was up the second that Barry walked into the bar, of course, all of the Rogues had. But then Barry had gone and done something as stupid as calling him ‘ _Lenny’_ and saying that they were ‘drinking buddies’ of all things… The nickname alone would have been enough to raise a few eyebrows, but Lisa knew that Len would never go out of his way to drink with just anyone. The only conclusion she could draw from that was that Barry meant more to Len than he was willing to admit. Which was laughable, actually, but at least it kept Lisa from knowing the truth.

Len wondered what would have happened if Barry had said something a little _less_ ridiculous that night; maybe if he had, Lisa wouldn’t have got it into her head to drag Barry across the bar and sit him with the Rogues.

Though, actually, knowing Lisa… maybe she would have done the exact same thing even if Barry had said he was their accountant. She really was far too invested in his love life, after all. Len knew that his sister only wanted what was best for him, but that didn’t make her actions any less of a nuisance.

The Rogues started flooding into the bar then, and Len felt his stomach twist a little. To say he was worried would be taking things a bit too far, Len didn’t _get_ worried… But perhaps he was a little uneasy at the thought that Barry might choose to not show his face tonight. Not that Len really cared much about whether or not the Flash wanted to spend time with Len and his Rogues… No, he was simply concerned about what Lisa would do if Barry _didn’t_ show. Last week, she had hunted Barry down and dragged him here herself, and Len figured that his sister wouldn’t be above doing it again. And who knew what she might accidentally uncover if she kept tracking Barry down week after week?

Len didn’t need to concern himself with that thought too much, however, because before long Barry was walking into the bar too, looking decidedly out of place and more than a little nervous. Len signalled the bartender for another beer, keeping his eyes trained on Barry at all times as the speedster glanced around the bar area before his eyes landed on Len.

“Think you can keep it in your pants this week?” Mark joked, noticing where Len’s attention had been pulled. Len finally broke eye contact with Barry, choosing to smirk at Mark instead. Mardon rolled his eyes and moved away, giving Barry a welcoming nod as the young speedster stepped closer to the bar.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d show,” Len said, making eye contact again briefly with Barry before the bartender settled his drink order down in front of them.

“Neither was I,” Barry admitted while Len handed him the beer, their fingers brushing momentarily. Len couldn’t help but notice how warm Barry’s hands were despite the cool night air outside.

The door opened one last time, and Len turned to see Bivolo enter the bar, the last of his Rogues. So, it was time for this meeting to begin, then. Len felt momentarily disappointed at that, knowing that it would be difficult to get Barry alone once the meeting started, what with how much Shawna and Lisa had taken a liking to him. Though, Len supposed that he didn’t particularly _need_ to speak with Barry alone tonight… they had already cleaned up their lie last week, after all.

Len placed his hand on Barry’s lower back as he guided him towards the table. Not because he wanted to be so tactile with Barry, of course, but because it was a part of the lie. The first time Len had done it, the first time he had voluntarily touched Barry Allen last week, he’d felt anxious the entire time. But each casual touch between them backed up their lie more and more, and that was an almost soothing thought. Len took some small comfort from the knowledge that they were doing everything they could to ensure Barry’s secret did not get out.

Len let his hand fall from the small of Barry’s back as they took their seats, Barry to Len’s right, Mick and Lisa to Len’s left… though Lisa was once again using their friend as a couch cushion and Len could tell that Mick’s patience with that was steadily wearing thin. If Barry was going to be sticking around, they would have to find a bigger table.

“To the Rogues,” Len said, making his customary toast and enjoying the way that Barry raised his bottle to join in with the cheers. To think that the Flash was drinking to his villains’ good health was laughable, really, though Barry didn’t seem to mind it as much as Len would have thought. Maybe that was because he’d connected with some of the Rogues in his short time here?

Like now, for example, as he was listening so intently to Bivolo’s story about how he’d finally gotten one of his painting into an art exhibit. It was an impressive feat, considering the guy was completely colour blind, but Len would have never expected Barry Allen to actually _care_.

Curious, Len just sat back and studied Barry, watched the way that his eyes lit up when he laughed, the way he gave smiles away so easily as though they were worth nothing at all, the way his long fingers anxiously tore the label off his beer bottle when the Rogues all began to discuss their first-ever heists.

“Another beer?” Len offered, noticing Barry’s drink had reduced down to the dregs, but Barry shook his head.

“One drink and you’re already done?” Lisa asked. “That’s no fun.”

“I’m just not in a beer mood,” Barry shrugged off.

“Whiskey?” Len offered instead, wondering what else the kid would drink.

“Here, try this,” Lisa said, putting her glass in Barry’s hand and staring him down until he took a sip, grinning when he nodded. “It’s the 40-year-old Dalmore,” she said, and Len rolled his eyes at that because _of course_ his sister would pick the single most expensive whiskey in the place. Not that Len couldn’t afford it, but he wasn’t as accustomed to splurging out like Mick and Lisa were.

Len stood to go to the bar, and Barry stood with him, reaching for his wallet as though Len would actually let him pay. But, as far as the Rogues were concerned, Barry was Len’s date, so it would be counter-intuitive if he didn’t pay for Barry’s drinks.

“It’s on me,” Len drawled, placing his hand deliberately on top of Barry’s to stop him from opening his wallet. His hands were even warmer now than they had been before. Len wondered idly if that was a Flash thing or just a Barry thing.

Thankfully, Barry had the sense not to argue, sitting back down as Len left the table. Mick leaning down against the bar when Len approached, opening and closing his lighter over and over again as the bartender eyed him warily while she lined up a row of shots.

“If you set the place on fire again,” Len drawled, “they might not let us come back.”

“It’d be worth it,” Mick said, eying the flame on his lighter as he lowered it to the first glass, the amber liquid immediately bursting into a blue flame which had Mick grinning. Len had half a mind to take the lighter from him, but the last time he’d done that Mick had started throwing punches.

“How about a deal?” Len asked instead. “You be careful not to set this place on fire and, in return, I’ll let you burn down Santini’s new casino?” Mick’s eyes immediately left the flame, standing up straight to grin at Len instead. “So long as there’s no one inside,” Len added on, and Mick’s grin diminished slightly, but he still shrugged and accepted, putting his lighter away and blowing out the flame on his drink.

Appeased, Len ordered two glasses of the whiskey, deciding he might as well get one for himself if he was getting one for Barry, and returned to the table, spending the rest of the night alternating between watching how the Flash interacted with his Rogues and planning for their next casino hit.

[] [] []

Barry actually hadn’t been certain whether he was going to be returning to the Rogues meeting that night. He’d spent the entire week pondering it, actually. It should have been a simple question with an easy answer. Because, no, of course, Barry couldn’t be spending all of this time with Leonard and his Rogues!

However…

Well, Barry didn’t love admitting it to himself, but he was actually kind of… enjoying himself.

It was stupid, he knew. Every time that he returned to Saints and Sinners for a Rogues meeting, he was putting himself in danger. Barry shouldn’t _want_ to spend so much time with them. But he did. And he couldn’t say for sure why, exactly, that was.

Maybe it was the fact that none of them truly knew him? Barry spent every single day with Iris, Eddie, Joe, Cisco, and Caitlin. And, as much as he loved them all, it was good to spend time with people _outside_ of their group every once in a while. But everyone Barry worked with, who didn’t know his secret, already had this pre-determined idea of him in their head. They thought of Barry as nothing more than the naïve, clumsy, geeky CSI. And once you’d built up a reputation like that, it took time to shift it. And on top of that, meeting new people wasn’t always an option; it was difficult to spare that kind of time when you spent all of your days at work and all of your nights as the Flash.

So, maybe that was why Barry was enjoying this little Thursday night tradition: because, as strange as his friendships with the Rogues was, it was also surprisingly easy.

And wasn’t that the most bizarre thought of the day…

So, of course, Barry went back to the bar that night. And after that it just kind of became a _thing_.

On the fourth meeting, they started squishing an extra chair in around the table between Mick and Len so that Lisa wasn’t constantly having to sit on Mick’s lap, though Barry thought that was more for Mick’s benefit than for Lisa’s as he seemed to be gradually getting more and more annoyed with her always stealing his drink. It was the same whiskey which Len had been buying for Barry, a real top-shelf vintage that Barry would have never thought to buy for himself. It was smoother than he’d expected, sweeter too, and Barry didn’t even realise how fast he was drinking them until Axel had commented about how well Barry could hold his liquor.

After that, Barry realised that drinking alcohol around the Rogues was probably not the best decision anymore, so he decided to switch to coffee instead, and everything had been going fine ever since.

Barry didn’t tell any of his friends or family about these meetings, of course. He knew that they would never approve, but he didn’t care about anyone else’s opinions for once. It felt strange to be doing something for himself for a change. But no matter how wrong Barry knew that it was to be friends with the Rogues, he didn’t really care. And wasn’t that the biggest shocker of all? He’d spent over 2 years tracking down metahuman criminals, he’d even gone so far as to lock them up without trial and nearly shipped them off to a remote island because he’d had some insane notion that it was better than letting them walk free… But now, here he was, laughing with Mirror Master and the Top.

Though, Barry’s friends had begun to notice that he was never available for a few hours every Thursday night. He knew that they’d eventually start asking questions about it, so Barry had prepared a cover story for himself to prevent the inevitable fallout. He’d told everyone that he’d recently gotten back in touch with some of his old friends from college, and now Thursday nights had become movie night. It wasn’t a foolproof lie, but it was good enough. And no one was going to argue it because, after all, Caitlin _had_ been getting on at him lately, trying to convince Barry that he needed to take more time off.

Barry hadn’t liked that thought at the time though, because he didn’t really have anything else in his life _except_ being the Flash. Not since Eddie and Iris had both found out the truth, not since Patty had left, not since Zoom had taken Barry’s dad away from him…

So, yeah, Barry’s entire life revolved around being the Scarlet Speedster.

Or, it did. But not so much anymore… not since he’d started showing up at these Rogues meetings. And now, for the first time in months, Barry felt like maybe there was more to him than just being the Flash. And it turned out that he’d needed that more than he’d thought.

It was all going so well. But, of course, it couldn’t be like that forever. Sooner or later, the Rogues were going to find out one of Barry’s secrets.

And that happened five weeks in. It was a Wednesday morning, and Barry had been running late for work, as usual, rushing into the precinct and heading for his lab, when he noticed a commotion in the pen. Maybe if Barry had been on time to work that day, he would have heard warning of what was going on, he wouldn’t have needed to go investigate for himself. But, instead, Barry moved through the crowd and came face-to-face with none other than Mark Mardon. He was being hauled in by a couple of unis who had spotted Weather Wizard while out patrolling the street this morning. The pair was grinning wide, probably daydreaming about the big promotions they were sure to be given for apprehending one of Central’s Most Wanted.

The second that Barry realised what was going on, he tried to push back out of view. But the crowd behind him was too thick, and it was too late, anyway. Mark saw him.

Barry waited for Mark to make a move. Waited for him to lunge at Barry, to start shouting and swearing, and reveal to everyone in the building that Barry Allen spent his Thursday nights hanging out with the Rogues.

He didn’t do any of those things.

Mark’s eyes remained trained on him the entire way as he was led through the pen and down to holding. And if looks could kill… well, Barry would be a goner.

Mark didn’t stay in police custody for long. The Rogues broke him out, though no one quite understood how they’d done it. One second, he was in a holding second, the next second, he was just gone. Barry suspected Shawna had a big part to play in that particular escape.

Barry would be impressed by how quickly they were able to break him out if it weren’t for the fact that Shawna knew where Barry _lived_.

This was bad.

This was so very, very bad.

The Rogues were probably on their way to torch Joe’s house right this very second!

Barry excused himself from the group to go back to his lab. Joe gave him a subtle nod, thinking that Barry was on his way out to track Mardon down before he got too far away, conveying to Barry that he would cover for him. Barry nodded back, better to let Joe think that that was what he was up to. But, in reality, Barry was tracking down Len. He would need Captain Cold’s help with this. And, failing that, he at the very least should _warn_ the guy that the Rogues knew Barry worked for the CCPD. Len had basically vouched for him, after all, and Barry couldn’t let that come back to bit him on the ass.

At STAR Labs, Barry used the software which Cisco had designed to get a reading on the cold gun, and the location pinged in a building on the south side of Central. Barry didn’t wait before he took off running, only realising once he’d got onto the road that it was in a residential area. That slowed Barry’s feet down pretty quickly. It was one thing to track Len to a bar, but if this was where he lived… well, then that was something else entirely. Leonard might not be all too happy to find the Flash showing up on his doorstep.

But what choice did Barry have?

Knowing that he had no other option, Barry started moving again, his strides slower and uneasy as he double-checked the location on his phone, making sure he had the right house before he climbed the steps to the porch and knocked on the front door.

He just had to hope that Len was alone inside. He expected none of the Rogues would be all too pleased to see him.

When the door opened, Barry was relieved to find Len on the other side, though he was certainly caught off-guard by what Len was wearing. Not that he looked bad, or anything. Just… Barry had never seen Len without his leather jacket or parka on before. And now Len was standing in front of Barry in black skinny jeans and a tight-fitting long-sleeved grey henley. But no jacket. It was different but _good_ different. It took Barry a full five seconds to stop staring, and by that time, Len looked as though he didn’t know whether he should be annoyed or amused by Barry showing up on his doorstep.

“Mark knows,” Barry said, and that made Leonard stand to attention, his shoulders tensing, and Barry could actually see all of Len’s muscles shifting through the skin-tight top he was wearing. Which was very distracting actually. Barry was having a difficult time keeping his eyes off of Len’s torso. Why did he have to decide to forgo a jacket today of all days? It was just so strange seeing him like this. So… bare.

Len stared at Barry for another second before stepping to one side, opening the door wider in invitation. Barry moved inside and looked around: the door opened straight into Len’s living room, but the two of them appeared to be alone.

“There’s no one else here,” Len said, reading the question in Barry’s eyes, before moving past him and through a door straight ahead. Barry followed him, finding himself inside Len’s kitchen. It was well decorated, mostly with greys and creams, though there was one wall behind the cooker which was covered in small silver tiles, all of which were speckled with a million shades of colour, which they reflected back into the room when the sun hit them.

It was certainly _not_ what Barry was expecting Leonard Snart’s kitchen to look like and, coupled with how Len was dressed today, Barry was forced to consider for a moment that he had somehow been thrown onto a different earth while he was running here.

The oven was switched on, and there was a pleasant scent in the air, a peppery and sweet smell which made Barry’s stomach give a small, hardly audible, rumble. Barry realised then he hadn’t eaten all morning, too caught up in his worries over Mardon to remember about getting in his daily calories.

“What exactly does he know?” Len asked, dragging Barry’s mind back to the task at hand as Len moved towards his coffee marker and poured out two mugs, one of which he handed to Barry. The smell of coffee in the air relaxed Barry’s nerves. Len apparently took his coffee black with one sugar, but he nodded his head towards the fridge to indicate that Barry could help himself to milk, which he did.

“That I work for the CCPD,” Barry said. “He saw me at the precinct.” Len nodded and moved to sit at the island counter, Barry finished stirring some sugar into his coffee and joined Len there a couple of seconds later.

“I’m assuming this was when he was taken into custody a few hours ago?”

“You know about that,” Barry said, it wasn’t really a question. “So, you did have something to do with his escape?” To Barry’s astonishment, he realised that he wasn’t angry about that. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure when he’d become so okay with dangerous metahumans out on the streets, taking whatever they wanted from whomever they wanted. Maybe these weekly Rogues meetings were affecting him in more ways than he’d realised?

“In a way,” Len admitted. “Shawna called me to fill me in on Mark’s arrest, so I put her and Hartley onto the task.”

“What? Do you already have some sort of escape plan outlined for people to follow?” Barry asked, mostly joking, but then Len shrugged and nodded.

“Multiple plans, actually,” Len corrected him, “depending on who's being taken in.”

“Huh,” was all Barry could say, pausing to think that over while taking a sip of his coffee. “I suppose that answers the question of why Mark didn’t put up a fight when he got arrested.” Barry knew that Len was keeping all of the Rogues in-line when it came to maintaining the zero-casualties outcome, and he would probably not take too kindly to one of the Rogues landing a cop in the hospital whether they survived the trip or not. But, still, it had been a surprise to learn that Mardon hadn’t even attempted to use his powers before the officers got the metahuman power-dampening cuffs on him.

Barry wondered if he would still stick to the rules, though, now that he knew Barry’s little secret. Would Captain Cold be enough to keep Weather Wizard in-line if he thought that Barry had been spying on them? Barry took another sip of his coffee, hoping that it would calm the nerves bubbling in his stomach. It was good stuff, he realised, richer than the coffee Barry was used to drinking.

“So, what do we do?” Barry asked. He didn’t need to clarify what he was asking, Len already knew.

“Nothing,” Len said, shrugging. Barry was about to protest, but then Len kept on talking. “Don’t worry about it, Barry,” Len brushed off. “He’ll just think you’re corrupt.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I vet everyone, Kid,” Len reminded him. Before he could say more, however, the kitchen timer began to beep, and so Len stood, grabbing a tea towel and taking a large glass dish out of the oven. Barry’s stomach growled again, louder this time, and Barry made a mental note to stop for a Big Belly Burger on the way back to the precinct. “And something this big would never get past me,” Len continued, turning the oven off as he did. “I mean, you’re not even trying to hide it; you still show up to work five times a week. So, the only conclusion they _can_ come to is that you’re a dirty cop.”

“Oh,” Barry muttered. “I don’t know how I feel about that,” he admitted. On the one hand, it was a relief to know that Mark Mardon wasn’t about to gun him down. But on the other hand, Barry didn’t like thinking about what could happen if a rumour like _that_ got out among his colleagues.

“Would you rather he know the truth?” Len asked, and Barry slowly shook his head. He supposed this was the better of the two options… probably. After a moment, Len returned to the table with two plates of food, placing one down in front of Barry.

“No…” Barry shook his head, refusing automatically even though that chicken and rice looked _damn_ good and smelt even better. “I’m fine.”

“Tell your stomach that,” Len joked, taking two sets of cutlery out of a drawer and passing one to Barry. “It’s honey mustard chicken; eat it before you pass out, would you?” Barry finally accepted the knife and fork, giving Len a soft, slightly embarrassed, smile in return.

“I didn’t think you knew about that,” he said casually as he cut a piece of chicken down to size. When Barry looked up again, Len was giving him a quizzical look and Barry realised that his comment must have been a joke. “Uh… yeah,” Barry shrugged, looking back down at the food on his plate to avoid Len’s gaze, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. “I burn up a lot of calories, so if I don’t eat a lot then I pass out,” he admitted and then immediately shoved a forkful of chicken and rice into his mouth so that he didn’t start babbling nervously. It was really good, actually, and Barry lifted his head to say just that, but then paused when he noticed Len hadn’t started eating yet and was still just staring at Barry.

“How much is ‘ _a lot_ ’?” Len eventually asked, and Barry shrugged, swallowing his bite and taking a sip of his coffee before he answered.

“It depends how much I use my powers,” Barry admitted. “It can be anything from ten thousand to fifty thousand calories a day.” The way Len’s eyebrows quirked up at that, how he was so shocked that he couldn’t even hide it, made Barry laugh. He took another bite, scooping up a big mound of the sticky rice on his fork, while Len processed that. “It’s okay, though,” Barry said after he swallowed his next bite. “Cisco makes these super energy bars for me. They taste terrible, but they get the job done.”

Len nodded, finally picking up his fork and beginning to eat his lunch. They ate in silence for a few moments before Len spoke again.

“I’ll check on my Rogues once you leave,” he reassured Barry, bringing the conversation back around to the reason why Barry was here in the first place. “Make sure that they’re not reading too much into your presence at the precinct.”

“Thank you,” Barry said. He still didn’t really like the idea of the Rogues thinking he was a corrupt cop but, at least for the time being, it was the best option they had.

And now that that was out of the way, the reality of how he was sitting in Leonard Snart’s home, drinking coffee with him and eating his cooking, finally set in.

His life really had become so strange in such a short length of time.

“Is this your actual place?” Barry asked, feeling a little awkward.

Len stared at Barry for a moment, chewing slowly on his food to buy himself time, looking as though he was trying to decide whether or not to trust Barry with that kind of information. After a few more seconds passed, he took another sip of his coffee and nodded.

“Technically, it’s Lisa’s too,” Len said. “Our grandfather left it to us. But she prefers to live by the water.”

“And you prefer the suburbs?” Barry asked around his final bite of food, his voice was teasing, but Len only shrugged.

“It’s the last place cops would come looking for me,” he said. “Until now, that is.” Len eyed Barry pointedly, and Barry felt a little guilty at that. He hadn’t _meant_ to track down where Len lived. It had just… happened. “Perhaps I should look for new real estate.”

“Oh, come on,” Barry rolled his eyes. “You know where I live, it’s only fair I know where you live too. And, anyway, at least _I_ knocked,” he teased, reminding Len of the time last Christmas when he’d broken into Joe’s house and waited for Barry to show. Len pursed his lips before shrugging to concede Barry’s point. “I should probably get back to work,” Barry said, finishing off the last of his coffee. “Joe can’t cover for me forever.”

They stood together, Len leaving the rest of his lunch for the time being as he led Barry back towards the front door, his hand grazing the small of Barry’s back as he did. Barry felt electricity spark against his skin at Len’s touch and made a mental note that he was apparently a bit ticklish there.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?” Barry asked, confirming once again that he would still be welcome at the weekly Rogues meeting, and Len nodded. But just as Barry was about to reach for the door handle and leave, Len spoke.

“One more thing before you go,” he said, and Barry turned to face him. Len was holding his mobile now and beginning to type something out. Barry frowned as he waited, getting a good look Len’s phone, he hadn’t realised before that they had the same model. Barry waited for a second for Len to finish what he was doing, but a thought started niggling at the back of his mind. Frowning, Barry tapped at his coat pocket, realising that his cell was gone. “Here,” Len said, handing what was apparently _Barry’s_ phone back before Barry had even got out an undignified ‘ _hey_ ’. “I put my number in. Next time you need to find me, just give me a call. Not that I haven’t enjoyed you showing up at my house without warning,” Len drawled.

Barry pulled a face as he looked down at the newest entry in his contacts. He guessed it would be easier if he had Len’s number, so he didn’t need to track the guy down every time they had to talk, but that was beside the point.

“How did you even unlock it?” Barry chose to focus on.

“Your passcode is your birthday, Barry. It’s not that hard to guess,” Len smirked, and Barry felt like rolling his eyes.

“How do you _know_ my birthday?” Barry kept insisting, to which he just received a ‘ _are you kidding me_ ’ look from Len accompanied with a shake of his head. Len leaned forward then, getting into Barry’s personal space as he reached past him to get the door handle. Barry’s heart leapt in his chest as Len drew closer and closer… probably just some automatic reaction to the fact that Len had just _pickpocketed_ him. Yeah… that’s all that was.

Barry quickly moved to the side as Len opened the door for him. And Barry made sure he still had both his wallet and keys before he left, catching the slightest glimpse of Len’s grin and hearing the beginning of his laughter as Barry turned and ran away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed throwing in a little of Len’s POV here because our Lenny is just as in denial about his feelings as Barry is, and that gives me endless amusement. I hope you guys are still enjoying this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it has been a few weeks since I last posted – work got in the way – but I should be able to continue my weekly updates again now!

Something was going on with Barry lately.

He was being secretive, and normally that would be a big red flag for Joe. This time, however, whatever secret Barry was keeping from them, it seemed to be doing him some good.

For the past month, Barry had been disappearing for these so-called ‘ _movie nights_ ’; he would say that he was just catching up with old friends, but as the night drew closer he would start to get this nervous energy about him: he would get jittery, impatient, a little anxious even. And this week was no exception. In fact, if anything, Barry was even worse this week than he had been all month.

Joe would be concerned about that if he didn’t see how Barry acted after these nights were over.

For one, he always came back home from these ‘ _movie nights_ ’ with a giant grin plastered on his face. But it wasn’t just that: Barry seemed to be sleeping better lately, plagued with fewer nightmares than he’d had all year. He was speaking a little more openly too, and spending less time running himself ragged on that treadmill in STAR Labs. And, overall, he just seemed…

Happy.

Happier than any of them had seen Barry in a long time.

It was obvious to Joe, and just about everyone else too, that Barry had started dating someone. But who that ‘ _someone_ ’ was, was a mystery. Joe didn’t like that. He wasn’t used to his foster son keeping secrets from him, and Joe could only worry about who this mystery date was if Barry was so set on not telling any of his friends or family about them.

But he supposed that he could give his son a break this once; understandably, he’d been so down ever since Zoom had killed Henry, and it was a nice change to see him excited about _anything_ again.

So, whoever it was that was putting that smile on Barry’s face, Joe supposed he owed them a thank you.

That’s what he reminded himself when he passed by Barry’s bedroom on Thursday night, pausing in the doorway as he saw his foster son nervously checking his phone and adjusting his hair, currently unaware of Joe’s presence.

“You okay there, Barr?” Joe asked, chuckling to himself when Barry startled, looking as though he nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun around to face Joe so fast that his body became a blur. Joe couldn’t help but notice that the phone he’d previously been holding was now nowhere to be seen, likely tucked away in his pocket.

Once again, Joe worried about why, exactly, Barry was so adamant on keeping these dates a secret from them. Wondering about what kind of person Barry wouldn’t want anyone to find out about… wondering whether it was someone who Joe knew as he tried his best not to mentally tally up every single one of their mutual acquaintances to figure out who it might be.

Joe didn’t let his worry show; he trusted Barry, after all, trusted that his son would confide in him if anything was wrong.

Still… it couldn’t hurt to ask…

“Anything _special_ happening tonight?” he prompted; just because he was letting Barry get away with this lie of his, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to push a little for the truth.

That was a father’s prerogative, after all.

“Nope,” Barry was quick to deny, a little too loudly, before continuing on just a little quieter. “No, just watching movies. Star Wars, probably. Yeah. There’s just a bit of an argument about whether we should start on Episode 1 or 4, you know, so we’ll probably spend most of the night debating _that_ rather than actually watching anything,” Barry rambled, ending with a laugh.

“Right…”

The answer was exactly what Joe had expected, but that didn’t stop him from being a little disappointed by it.

“I better get going, or I’m going to be late,” Barry said then, glancing back over his shoulder at the mirror hanging in his bedroom and checking his hair and outfit one last time before he ran past Joe and out of the house at superspeed.

“I raised an idiot,” Joe sighed, shaking his head and continuing on downstairs to enjoy the rest of his night while trying his hardest _not_ to interfere in his son’s personal life.

[] [] []

Admittedly, Barry was a little on-edge tonight.

In fact, he’d been like this since the whole precinct incident yesterday.

After leaving Len’s house, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from worrying about whether or not he should go to the meeting tonight. Several times throughout the last 30-odd hours, Barry had managed to convince himself that staying away from the Rogues from now on was the best course of action. But then he would take out his phone to text Len his decision and instead just end up standing there, staring blankly at the contact number until his screen went black again.

He didn’t quite know why it was so hard to send that text, why it made him feel a different type of nervous. Maybe he was just worried about the repercussions…

Len had stuck his neck out for Barry, after all, and if Barry now suddenly stopped showing up at these meetings, it might make the Rogues suspicious. Wouldn’t it look like he was trying to hide something from them? And how would that then look for Len?

Plus, Barry was constantly reminding himself that Len _had_ insisted that it would be fine tonight at the meeting, and Barry trusted Len and his judgement… probably a little too much, actually, considering the guy was technically a supervillain.

Sighing, Barry slowed down from superspeed inside of an alley and began the rest of the trip to Saints at a regular walking pace, wishing that he could talk to one of his friends about all of this.

But it just wasn’t that simple.

Joe could clearly tell that something was wrong, he was able to read Barry so well, having been the one to raise him for most of his life, and he had obviously seen that Barry had a lot on his mind tonight. But he didn’t know the truth of the matter, and there was no way he would ever be able to put together what Barry was _really_ up to with his Thursday nights, nor who he was really with when he said he was having movies nights with his old college friends. Joe surely wouldn’t take well to finding out that Barry was spending his Thursday nights with the Rogues.

Barry wondered briefly how long he would have to keep this lie going for; how long could he really keep doing this?

Barry’s worry over that only spurred on his anxiety over tonight’s Rogues meeting to new heights as he got closer and closer to the bar. He could see the shadow of a man looming outside the entrance, a lit cigarette in his hand, and Barry sighed as he realised it was Sam Scudder. He wasn’t the worst of the Rogues, but he wasn’t exactly pleasant to speak with either. In truth, Barry didn’t even know why Scudder had agreed to join in the first place.

When Barry had first heard about the Mirror Master, the man had just broken Rosa Dillion out of Iron Heights and seemed to be out for vengeance against Captain Cold. Barry had hoped that he and Len might be able to team up to bring Scudder down, but before Barry could even so much as warn Len about his former crewmate seemingly coming back from the dead, the guy had already managed to knock Scudder down a peg or two, somehow recruiting him for the Rogues at the same time.

Barry still wasn’t very clear on the details there, but so long as Scudder was following the rules, so long as no one died, Barry was okay with it. And, who knew, maybe one day Len would fill him in on what had really happened there…

"I guess we finally know why Snart keeps you around,” Scudder leered as Barry got closer to the building, not even looking up from his cigarette. Barry’s feet slowed, and he tensed, ready for a fight. “You’re his little precinct pet, aren’t you?"

Before Barry could say anything though, Shawna was there by his side, appearing from thin air and making him flinch: no amount of superspeed could prepare him for a teleporter.

"Still can't figure out why Rosa keeps _you_ around though,” she said to Scudder, her voice fake-sweet. After a beat, the smile on her lips dropped, as did the light tone in her voice when she next spoke, dismissive and annoyed. “Take a hike."

Scudder glared at Shawna for a moment but said nothing else as his eyes cast over her shoulder. Barry turned to look that way, seeing Shawna’s car at the far end of the parking lot, Lisa climbing out of it and waving their way, whether that was aimed at Barry or Sam, though, Barry wasn’t sure.

When Barry turned back to look at Scudder again, the guy was stubbing his cigarette out and turning to go back inside the bar with a huff of annoyance.

“Err…” Barry muttered, unsure what to say to Shawna now that he had the chance to speak. “Are we… okay?” He had to know, had to know whether their friendship had changed now that Shawna knew he worked for the CCPD; she had come to his help just now, sure, but was that because she had Barry’s back? Or because she just liked having that opportunity to tell off Mirror Master?

“You mean about the fact that you’re a cop?” she asked, her voice was sharp, but it wasn’t echoed in her eyes, and that made the tension drop from Barry’s shoulders. “Yeah, we’re good,” she eventually said, and Barry sighed in relief. “I mean, Snart says that we have nothing to worry about and I believe him. I trust that Captain Cold wouldn’t be so easily fooled, not even by your pretty face and _rockin’_ abs.”

Shawna was smiling, and so Barry laughed even as he blushed a bright red with embarrassment. He never _did_ learn how to take that kind of compliment…

“Aren’t you cute,” Lisa teased as she approached them, a grin on her face. “No wonder my brother likes you.”

“Err… thanks?” Barry said, not quite sure how else to respond to that. Lisa just smiled back, linking her arm with Barry’s and towing him towards the door with Shawna only a step behind them. Barry had to make a conscious effort not to let his nerves take over, not to let the world slow down around him as he approached the entrance to the bar. But, just as Len had promised him, Barry’s worries were over nothing: he stepped through the door, and there were no weapons aimed at his head, no tiny blizzards erupting inside at the sight of his face, no ticking bombs waiting to explode.

There were just the Rogues sitting scattered around a large table, and Len leaning at the bar with a beer in one hand and a coffee resting in front of him.

Lisa’s arm dropped from Barry’s as Len turned to face them. Barry found his feet moving towards the bar before he even consciously made the decision to do it.

“Three sugars?” he asked as Len pushed the coffee cup towards him, and Len rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Barry, it’s as sickly sweet as you like it.”

“Three sugars isn’t ‘ _sickly sweet_ ’,” Barry laughed, rebutting Len’s argument before taking a sip and nodding his approval.

“Whatever you say,” Leonard muttered, his lips twitching with a smile. Not a smirk; an actual, genuine, _smile_.

It was a rare thing to see.

Sure, Len gave smirks away at any given opportunity, but they were put-upon, fake, just another part of his Captain Cold act. Getting a real smile out of him was much more difficult, and seeing one now made Barry’s chest flutter a little with pride to have been the one who had drawn it out of him.

Barry cast his eyes back towards the table of Rogues, where Lisa and Shawna were both taking their seats and laughing along with one of Axel’s stories. No one was paying him and Len much mind, and Barry took solace in that. Whatever Len had said to his Rogues, it had clearly worked. Barry should never have doubted that it would.

“Hungry?” Len asked abruptly, drawing Barry’s gaze again. Barry just shrugged; he was _always_ hungry, but at least he’d remembered to eat a real meal this time so that he wouldn’t end up going low on them.

But then Len pulled a candy bar out of his jacket pocket and offered it over. Barry just blinked down at the chocolate, unsure what to make of it. What kind of supervillain carried chocolate around in his jacket?

“Are you secretly a Grampa and I didn’t know about it?” Barry teased, and Len glared back in response.

“Do you want it or not?”

“Yes please,” Barry said, quickly taking the bar before Len could change his mind, though he would certainly be using this moment as future taunting material.

“Come on, Boys,” Lisa called to them, drawing Barry’s attention back to the table again. “Stop flirting and get your asses over here.” A few of the Rogues in the room let out a laugh, and Barry felt himself blush, his heart racing uncomfortably. Not because of her words, of course. Just… Barry didn’t like having everyone’s attention on him, was all.

Barry followed Len over to the table, the warm coffee cup in one hand, the candy bar in the other. He felt nervous again as he approached his seat, right next to Weather Wizard, but Mark gave him a solid nod as a greeting, and Barry returned it as he felt relief flood him.

It truly was going to be okay.

[] [] []

“Do you think it’s that new guy at his work?” Iris asked, her voice a tantalising whisper. “The CSI that Barry keeps complaining about… what’s his name?”

“Julian?” Caitlin asked, and Cisco nodded, snapping his fingers her way.

“Yes!” he said, but Caitlin only shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Barry still complains about him. A lot.”

“Maybe he’s just keeping up pretences,” Cisco suggested, and Cait thought about that for a second before shaking her head again

“I just don’t see it… what about that new barista at Jitters?” she asked.

“The redhead?” Iris muttered, screwing her nose up and pulling a face. “She’s definitely got a thing for him, but… no, she’s not Barry’s type.” Caitlin nodded a little at that; the girl did seem a little too rude for Barry’s liking.

But who else did they know who Barry might be ashamed to date? Who else would he keep secret from them?

“Well, I think that’s just about everyone,” Cait pouted, and the other two shrugged as they threw in the towel. At this rate, they were _never_ going to figure out who Barry was secretly spending his Thursday nights with.

“We might not know the _who_ ,” Cisco said as Cait and Iris fell silent. His voice so quiet that Caitlin wasn’t sure if he even wanted to be heard. “But… we know the _where_.”

“We do?” Cait blurted out at the same time that Iris asked: “How?”

“Well…” Cisco swivelled around on his chair, turning to face the girls head-on. “You know that I’ve been working on creating a new phone app which can work as a sort of panic button?” Cisco asked, and they both nodded. “I put it on Barry’s phone last month; just to test out the user interface on it, you know. And, err… I may have been doing a little bit of tweaking with it on my end last Thursday night and _accidentally_ turned on the remote tracker.” He didn’t look entirely proud of his admission as he made it, but there was a smile forming on his lips anyway. “I got a ping back at a bar downtown called Saints and Sinners.”

“Never heard of it,” Caitlin said, frowning. But she supposed that finally put the whole ‘ _what if he really is at a movie night?_ ’ question to bed…

“I have,” Iris said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “It’s not exactly the kind of bar that I could picture Barry in, though. And who’s to say he went back there tonight?”

“I, err, I may have made the same mistake the week earlier too, and the location pinged at the same bar,” Cisco admitted, grimacing. “And the week before that as well.”

“Cisco!” Cait reprimanded, feeling as though _someone_ had to do it.

“It was an accident!” Cisco automatically defended himself, raising his hands high in the air.

“No, it wasn’t,” Iris said, she sounded unimpressed, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“No… it wasn’t,” Cisco agreed. They stayed silent for a moment, all of them thinking the same thing, but none of them wanting to be the first one to say it aloud.

“Anyone else feeling a little… thirsty?” Iris asked.

“You know, there’s not much on the scanners tonight,” Cisco said slowly. “We could always call it a night… stop at a bar for a little after-work treat.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea!” Cait grinned. They all looked at each other for a second before jumping out of their seats and grabbing their things.

But then…

“Wait,” Iris sighed while Cait struggled to get her coat on in such a hurry. “We shouldn’t.” Cisco looked as though he was ready to defend himself again, but then he just sighed and nodded.

“Yeah… I know.”

And with that, they all sat back down again.

Iris stuck around for another hour before Eddie swung by to pick her up. Another hour after that, and Cisco and Caitlin decided to call it a night too: there really _wasn’t_ much to pick up on from the scanners tonight, and it had been a long day for them both. Caitlin was going to just drive home and take a nice hot bubble bath before going to bed.

Yep.

That is _exactly_ what she was going to do.

And yet… she found herself googling the bar that Cisco had told her about. It was about twenty minutes out of her way, in the completely opposite direction to her apartment, but it was just off a main road which Cait knew of well.

And it was late now, anyway… Barry would surely not be there anymore. Right? So, what was the harm in checking it out? Maybe it would give Cait a better idea to go off of for their next round of ‘ _guess who Barry’s secretly dating_ ’.

Really. It was harmless. Caitlin wouldn’t even stop or go inside, she’d just… drive past.

She shouldn’t.

She _knew_ she shouldn’t.

But Cait found herself steering her car downtown anyway.

The bar was easy enough to find, with a big garish sign out front, and Cait felt guilty as her car got closer and closer: she shouldn’t be here. She should just turn her car back around and go home, just like Cisco was doing. This wasn’t right. This was-

The door to the bar opened, and a man stepped outside.

Caitlin didn’t mean to look, but his movement set off the automatic lights, illuminating the walkway outside of the building and drawing Caitlin’s gaze as she drove past.

The man was tall, with short shorn hair, and Caitlin _nearly_ didn’t recognise him.

Nearly.

But Captain Cold was impossible to mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun _dunnnnnn_.
> 
> I hope you guys liked this chapter. It was a difficult one to write, but I'm (mostly) pleased with how it turned out regardless. Drop me a comment and let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, Len and Barry have even less interaction in this chapter than they did in the last one :( sorry about that! I ended up splitting this chapter into 2 because there was a time jump of nearly a week and it just didn’t flow well enough, and unfortunately, all of the coldflash interactions are in the 2nd part...

“What’s wrong?” Ronnie asked the second that he saw Caitlin walk into their apartment. She supposed that she probably looked a tad dazed – she certainly felt it – and her husband was on high alert instantly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, hoping to calm his worries by putting on a smile, but it didn’t quite feel right on her lips. “I just… I did something I shouldn’t have and found out something that I really wish I didn’t know,” she eventually admitted, collapsing onto a seat next to Ronnie, who was looking at her strangely now. She wanted to tell him more, but she didn’t even know how to put it into words…

How could she tell Ronnie that Barry, sweet Barry Allen, who worked for the CCPD and spent his nights running around as the Flash… who was their _friend_ , was secretly dating-

No.

She couldn’t even think it. It was ridiculous!

Wasn’t it?

Ronnie reached out and held Cait’s hand, showing his unspoken support. He was there for her, now and always.

“I found out who Barry has been dating,” Cait told him.

Ronnie hadn’t taken part in their little ‘ _guess who_ ’ game this past few weeks, and he’d actually gone so far as reprimanding her for her involvement. But Cait had brushed it off: it was just a game, after all, and she’d never thought that anything would actually come of it.

“Who is it?” Ronnie asked, looking even more concerned now that he knew the reason behind Caitlin’s shock.

Cait opened her mouth to tell him the truth, to finally speak the words aloud.

But… she couldn’t do it. This was _Barry’s_ secret; it wasn’t her’s to tell. She shouldn’t even _know_ , after all. And that was on her and her alone. Cait should have known that there was a big reason for Barry keeping these dates a secret, and she should have respected his wishes.

“I can’t tell you,” Caitlin finally said, her voice a soft whisper as she shook her head. She’d been a bad enough friend once already tonight; she couldn’t do it again. Ronnie seemed to understand, but it didn’t make him any happier.

“Whoever it is…” Ronnie said slowly, “they’re not going to hurt him, are they?”

“No,” Cait answered quickly, trying her best to calm her husband’s worries. But it wasn’t until the response had left her lips that she realised just how _true_ it was. And maybe that was the biggest shock of the night.

Because Leonard Snart was a dangerous man: he’d kidnapped Cait and left her tied to a bomb, he’d kidnapped Cisco and iced his brother’s hand, he had a gun specifically designed to hurt the Flash and had used it on Barry _many_ times!

But, lately… he’d changed.

He’d changed because of Barry.

Maybe even _for_ Barry.

Cait’s head was spinning now, but she couldn’t deny it. Snart was a different man to the one they had first met two years ago. He had come to Barry’s aid several times over these past few months, ever since he’d broken out of Iron Heights, and Cait had seen first-hand the looks that the two of them shared, the way they spoke to each other, how they moved around one another as though they’d known each other for a lifetime…

She should have realised it sooner.

“No, Barry’s safe,” she said again, knowing in her heart that the words were true, no matter how absurd they sounded. “It’s possible that I might have overreacted,” she admitted.

Appeased, Ronnie nodded and gave Cait’s hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

But now that the shock of the ‘ _who_ ’ had passed, the guilt from the ‘ _why_ ’ she’d found out flooded Caitlin once again. She shouldn’t have been snooping on Barry’s personal life; he’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want anyone knowing about who he was dating, but Caitlin had been too nosy for her own good and couldn’t just let sleeping dogs lie. Even if he didn’t know it yet, she had broken Barry’s trust, and now she was just going to have to find some way to make it up to her friend.

“Let’s just forget about it and go to bed,” she said, knowing that she probably wouldn’t be able to get any sleep but hoping not to worry Ronnie any more than she already had tonight.

[] [] []

Barry felt energetic when he woke up the next morning. He even got up early, which was not normal for him _at all_. But, hey, these nights off from his Flash duties were really doing him some good. So, Barry started his Friday morning by making breakfast, enough to feed himself, Joe and Wally, before the rest of his household was even awake.

When Joe came down the stairs, he was more than a little shocked by it all.

“You look like you had a good night,” he commented, and Barry just shrugged around his mouthful of French toast while Joe helped himself to an omelette. “You watched Star Trek, right?”

“Star Wars,” Barry corrected. The lie was an easy one to remember: he hadn’t been able to get those films off his mind ever since Lisa had told him how big of a fan Len was of them. Joe made a soft ‘hmm’ sound as he sat down across from Barry, looking suddenly very serious.

“You know, Iris’ wedding is coming up soon,” he began.

Barry nearly winced at the reminder; he’d been intending on taking Patty as his plus one, but that was before she’d left Central City, and him, behind. Barry was happy for her, he was. He was glad that she was chasing her dreams, and lately, the sting of their break-up was hurting less and less, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the reminder of his own single status.

“I know you’ve not always had the best luck in relationships,” Joe said, and Barry huffed a laugh at that particular understatement. Having a full-time job at the CCPD and extracurricular activities as the Flash didn’t really leave much room for dating. “And I know that I have been… a little biased in the past about who I thought you should be with…”

Ah, yes, the bi-monthly reminder that Barry was once unrequitedly in love with his best friend.

Just perfect.

“But I just want you to know that I would support _anyone_ who you brought home. Whether they are someone that I could personally picture you with or not, it doesn’t matter so long as they make you happy.”

“Erm… thanks,” Barry muttered. It was certainly a strange and unprovoked conversation, but Barry appreciated the sentiment anyway. He had to wonder whether Joe was feeling guilty over how he’d treated Eddie for the first few months after he’d learnt about his relationship with Iris.

“So, if there is anyone who you’d like to bring to this wedding,” Joe continued, picking up his fork and slowly cutting up the omelette on his plate as he spoke, “maybe one of your college friends who you’ve been spending your Thursday nights with, for example… I’m sure that Iris would be happy to have them there.”

Barry couldn’t help but picture the havoc which would ensure if he brought one of the Rogues to Iris’ wedding. He nearly choked on his toast at the thought of it: Lisa would probably spend the entire time flirting with Cisco while pickpocketing half of the guests, Mick would likely set the place on fire when he got bored, Mark might just remember his old grudge against Joe and start a tsunami again, Hartley would probably get a little handsy with Eddie after a few drinks and have to fight Iris for him. Which Iris would win, yeah, but that was beside the point. Shawna… well, actually, Shawna might just be okay, so long as she didn’t recognise Caitlin or Cisco from her time in the pipeline. She’d only actually seen their faces a handful of times, but Barry wasn’t about to risk that.

The only other Rogue that Barry would consider inviting was Len, and that… that wouldn’t end well either. Even if Barry could convince him not to cause a stir, and even if his friends all agreed to have Captain Cold there, Len would still get arrested by one of the _many_ CCPD attendees the second that he stepped foot into the church.

So, it just wasn’t worth the risk.

But Barry couldn’t explain any of that to Joe, and he didn’t much like the idea of his foster father asking any more questions about his so-called ‘ _friends from college_ ’ either.

“Speaking of the wedding,” Barry said, steering the conversation away from his own love life – or lack thereof – and onto Joe instead. “Have you written your speech yet?” Joe blanched at the reminder, looking more than a little guilty. Barry took the opportunity, and Joe’s momentary distraction, to stand up. “You better get working on it; Iris expects tears,” Barry continued, patting Joe on the shoulder before stepping away from the table.

He quickly excused himself from the room and ran off to STAR Labs instead, making a quick detour at Jitters for another fix of coffee.

It was still very early, and so the coffee shop was almost empty, a peaceful change of pace from the mad rush that Barry usually got stuck in before work. One of the baristas was hanging up a new sign which caught Barry’s eye.

“Would you like to try a drink from our new special edition range?” a different barista asked when she saw where Barry’s attention was drawn. “It’s a bit of a competition we’re running this month,” she said, offering Barry a menu with all of the new drinks on. “Try them, vote for your favourite, and the coffee with the most votes will be placed permanently on the menu.”

Barry stared at the brightly coloured laminated paper in his hands, titled ‘ _Go Rogue_ ’, and scanned his eyes down the list of drinks, his surprise getting broken by amusement at the banana-split flavoured frappe they named after Gorilla Grodd. A, slightly evil, voice in the back of Barry’s head told him he’d have to buy Joe one of those later.

“They’re all frappes,” the barista continued. “Except for the Heatwave, of course.” Then she leant forward and stage-whispered: “that one’s my personal favourite.”

“The Heatwave has nothing on the Top!” another barista, the one who had been hanging the sign moments ago, called. “A green tea frappe with lemon syrup and extra whipped cream? Yes, please.” Barry had to admit, that did sound rather good. Most of them did, actually. But there was one in particular that Barry just couldn’t resist ordering.

“I’ll try the Captain Cold to go,” he said, putting the menu back down and paying for his drink as the barista got to work making his order. When she placed it down in front of him – a blueberry frappe with extra ice, vanilla syrup, and topped with whipped cream… which Barry thought was supposed to look like Len’s parka – Barry couldn't resist taking a picture, thinking that he’d show it Len next week at the Rogue meeting.

But then Barry remembered the number programmed into his phone, and he froze up.

Would it be weird if he sent Len a picture of the drink?

But it was named after him, and Barry was sure that he would get a kick out of that…

After a moment of consideration, Barry decided to do it anyway. He took a second picture of the blue concoction he’d ordered, this time with the menu visible in the background, and sent it to Len before he could change his mind. Feeling suddenly anxious, Barry shoved the phone back into his pocket and picked his drink up again, taking his first sip as he turned to leave the coffee shop. It was actually quite nice, if not a little too sweet to drink first thing in the morning. But he could live with that.

Once Barry was on the street and out of sight, he took off running again – careful not to spill his drink all down himself as he did; he’d done that before, and it was _not_ fun.

When Barry skidded to a stop inside STAR Labs, he saw that Caitlin was there already, turning on the computers while she sipped her own coffee and got ready for the day ahead. She must have been very deep in thought because, when Barry made his entrance, she just about jumped out of her skin.

“Jeez, Barry,” she complained, hand to her chest. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah,” Barry shrugged. “Maybe these nights off are doing me some good.” Looking a little tense, Cait turned around and began reorganising the papers which had fluttered off of the desk when Barry ran into the lab. Barry thought that maybe she could benefit from a night off too; just because she wasn’t out in the city every night fighting metas, didn’t mean that she wouldn’t get exhausted and overworked staying up and monitoring the suit and Barry’s vitals every night. Barry was about to suggest it, but Cait began talking again, her back still to Barry as she scanned the papers in her hands.

“You had a good night, then?” she asked though she didn’t sound quite as casual about it as she probably thought she did. Barry had a momentary panic that she knew more than she was supposed to, but he quickly brushed that thought aside; if Caitlin knew that Barry was spending his Thursdays with the Rogues, she wouldn’t be beating around the bush about it. Right?

Still, Barry couldn’t get his heart to stop racing as he gave a nod and hummed a yes.

“Good,” Cait said, turning around now to face Barry again. “That’s really good.” The way she said it made Barry frown; it was almost as though she was trying to convince herself of her own answer. Once again, Barry’s heart leapt up into his throat, his mind going to the worst-case scenario.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sure that something _must_ be wrong, even if he didn’t know what it was.

“Nothing,” she was quick to say, and then had to clear her throat before she could say anything else, talking a little more normally now. “I’m just… I’m glad that you’re happy, Barry.” Huh. First Joe and now Caitlin? Why was everyone acting so _strange_ this morning? Though, Barry supposed there were worse things to complain about than his friends and family showing their love and support, even if it _had_ caused Barry a bit of unnecessary panic.

“Thanks,” he said with a short and slightly awkward laugh, his heart finally began to slow back to its normal pace again as Caitlin gave him a soft smile. “You too.”

“Now what is that thing?” Cait asked, nodding down at the drink in Barry’s hand. “It looks like it’ll rot your teeth.”

“Err,” Barry uttered, laughing a little as he felt an embarrassed flush against his cheeks. “It’s a Captain Cold frappe,” he admitted. “They started selling Rogue-inspired coffees at Jitters so…” Barry shrugged. “I thought it was funny. Do you want to try it?”

“I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head; thankfully, it looked as though she could see the humour in it too as her lips were beginning to tug into a wider smile. It was about then that Barry felt his phone buzzing with a text notification, and he felt oddly nervous again as he quickly put his drink down and pulled his cell out of his pocket.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_7:49 am_**  
 **And I thought your usual drink was sickeningly sweet. You’ve outdone yourself, Barry.**

Barry rolled his eyes at that and was about to type out a reply when another text came through.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_7:50 am_**  
 **If they knew me at all, it would be a black espresso. Not… whatever that is.**

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_7:50 am_**  
 **Don’t pretend you don’t love it**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_7:50 am_**  
 **I hate it.**

Barry could feel his cheeks begin to ache and realised he was grinning; he tried his best to smother his smile down, but he didn’t think it worked very well. It didn’t matter, though, Caitlin wasn’t paying him any attention anymore anyway.

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_7:50 am_**  
 **Just for that lie, I’m going to vote to keep it on the menu :)**

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_7:50 am_**  
 **It will become Jitters new signature drink**

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_7:51 am_**  
 **Everyone in Central City will know what Captain Cold tastes like**

Barry hit send before he fully processed what he’d written and instantly regretted it.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_7:51 am_**  
 **I’m fairly certain that is not what I taste like**

Barry was extremely glad he hadn’t taken a sip of his drink when that text came through, certain he would have spat it out all over the floor. As it was, Barry was already choking on his own spit in surprise, having to blink tears back from his eyes and gaining a concerned look from Caitlin which he just waved away.

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_7:52 am_**  
 **I meant the drink!**

Barry shook his head and pocketed his phone before he could make a bigger fool of himself, attempting to cool his overheated cheeks and calm his racing heart. But every time he saw his drink waiting for him on the desk, Barry got flustered all over again until he eventually just had to throw the rest of it in the trash.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to drink another one of those ever again without… without picturing… something that he should _not_ be picturing!

Trying to get his mind off it, Barry asked Cait for an update from last night, and she filled him in on what he’d missed, which wasn’t much actually. Then Cisco showed up, carrying what looked suspiciously like the salted caramel Golden Glider frappe from the new Jitters’ menu, and Barry decided it was time to go for a short morning run as the Flash to clear his head before work, going on with the rest of the day as though nothing had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know absolutely nothing about coffee (or tea, for that matter) and so it took me _far_ too long to come up with all of the Rogue coffees. For that reason alone, I will be bringing them up repeatedly over the next few chapters to make my hours of research - for what was initially only going to be like one or two lines - worth it.
> 
> Once again, sorry that Len and Barry didn’t really interact in this chapter. The next one is entirely about the two of them again though!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another more serious chapter this time around - though don’t worry because there is still plenty of fun to be had! :D

“Look’s like Snart’s back to his old tricks again,” Joe muttered, shaking his head in barely-contained anger as they left the crime scene. Barry felt his stomach twist into knots with worry at his foster father’s words, but he was adamant that Joe was barking up the wrong tree this time. Len kept to their deal, he _always_ kept to their deal. So, this case… the frozen door, the stolen paintings, the dead security guard… it couldn’t have been Len. Barry was sure about it!

Joe, however, was not so easily convinced.

“I thought, er…” Eddie started but then paused again to look around and make sure no one was within hearing distance before he continued speaking. “I thought you and Snart had a deal.”

“We do,” Barry said, nodding. “This wasn’t him.”

“How can you be so sure of that, Barr?” Joe asked, and Barry faltered. How could he explain to Joe and Eddie why he had so much faith in Leonard Snart without telling them the truth about his Thursday nights? When Barry could not give an answer, Joe just sighed and shook his head. “Fine, I’ll keep an open mind,” he eventually agreed, believing in his foster son even if he couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , believe in Len.

That was enough for Barry, though.

“We should speak to him, anyway,” Eddie said, though he looked much more willing to accept Barry’s answer than Joe had done. “Just to rule him off the list. Do you know where he is?”

The answer to that was, of course, yes. Barry had come to learn quite a lot about Len these last few weeks: he knew what bar Len frequented, where he would be on a Thursday night, who his friends were, where he lived, the general area where Lisa lived too… and he even had the guy’s phone number! Finding Len was easier now than it had ever been before.

“No,” Barry said. It… it wasn’t _technically_ lying. Like, okay, he did have a pretty good guess at where Len might be on an early Wednesday morning, but he didn’t know for _sure_. “But I think I can find out,” he promised.

“Okay, good,” Joe nodded. They were back at his cruiser now, parked out of sight of the main road with no one else around but the three of them. “Keep us posted on that,” he said, knowing fully-well that Barry would not be going back to the precinct with them. “I’ll cover for you with Singh.” Barry nodded, having one last glance around, making sure there were no prying eyes in sight, before he zipped off running and left Joe and Eddie to do their job and find out who the _real_ killer was.

Barry stopped again in an alley a few blocks away from the crime scene, taking out his phone.

He and Len had been texting occasionally ever since the first disastrous attempt last Friday, and Barry was beginning to feel more comfortable about it now.

At first, he had actually felt nervous about texting Len – and he supposed that was deserved, considering he was an employee of the Central City Police Department who had miraculously become friends with several wanted criminals this past month – but now, Barry barely even needed to question it. He didn’t overthink his texts anymore, didn’t worry about whether he was being annoying, nor did he fret that Len wouldn’t reply to a message. Len always replied. He always had something to say, and it was usually a quip of some kind which would ease Barry’s nerves. Texting Len had become _easy_ now, almost as though they had been friends for years - which, Barry supposed, they kind of had been, in their own way.

This text was a little more difficult to send, though. Not because Barry doubted Len’s innocence here, but because he doubted Joe’s vow to keep Len out of this. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time that Joe West hadn’t kept to his word when it came to investigating Barry’s friends for murder. This time, however, Barry was the one who was right. He was _certain_ of it.

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_9:23 am_**  
 **We need to talk**

Barry typed up the text and sent it; Len’s response was nearly instant.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_9:23 am  
_ Uh-oh. Sounds like you’re breaking up with me, Barry.**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_9:23 am  
_ I’m hurt. I thought we had something special**

Barry laughed despite himself, rolling his eyes at his ridiculous friend, even as his chest continued to tighten with worry; and Barry knew that the knot there wouldn’t loosen any until after he’d spoken with Len and got this whole thing sorted out.

To: **_Len_**  
Sent: **_9:24 am  
_ This is serious. Are you home?**

That seemed the drive the message through a little better, as Len’s next response wasn’t sarcastic like Barry was used to.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_9:24 am  
_ Give me half an hour first, then you can come over**

Barry nodded to himself, typing out a quick text to confirm he’d be there, and deciding that he might as well speak to his team while he was waiting to meet with Len. Barry took off running again, this time not stopping until he’d reached STAR Labs.

“We’ve got a case,” Barry said, when Caitlin turned to look his way, a question in her eyes, knowing that he should be at work right now.

Barry took his camera out of the messenger bag he used for work, taking out the SD card and slotting it into one of the computers to give the lab a copy of his crime scene photos as he spoke.

“Central City Art Museum was broken into last night, a few of the displays destroyed, others stolen, one person dead. He was the guard on duty last night, so we have a general time frame, putting the murder at some time between 1 and 6 am.” Barry pulled up a couple of the key photos on the large monitors in the lab so that his friends could see what they were dealing with here. “Getting a more precise time frame might be impossible because the CCTV was wiped clean and the body was-”

“Frozen…” Cisco muttered, finishing Barry’s sentence as he got a good look at the photos.

“Exactly.”

“Well,” Cisco said. “I think I have a pretty good guess at who our primary suspect should be.”

“It wasn’t Leonard Snart,” Barry rebutted right away without even hearing his friend out; he’d heard enough of this from Joe already as it was.

“Are you sure, Barry?” Caitlin asked, looking concerned. “I just mean that you can be a bit… _forgiving_ when it comes to Captain Cold.”

“It wasn’t him,” Barry kept on insisting, beginning to feel like a broken record. The rest of Team Flash might be positive that this was Len’s doing, but Barry knew better than that. He knew _Len_ better than that.

Len wouldn’t cause this much destruction. He enjoyed _planning_ heists, taking his time and figuring out the best way to get his target without tipping off the police or leaving behind evidence. And Barry may have insisted on the ‘no killing’ rule, but Len had already had his own code regarding that long before the Flash even existed. Taking innocent lives had always been a last resort to him. Len liked to say that he’d worked that way to keep the cops off of his back, but Barry thought there was more to the story: unlike so many criminals Barry had met before, Len didn’t enjoy killing, took no pleasure in stealing someone’s life along with their diamonds.

So, to Barry, it was pretty cut and dry; he was _sure_ that Len was innocent.

Or, well, at the very least he was innocent of _these_ crimes. And Barry was going to prove it, with or without his friends’ help.

“Okay,” Cait accepted, surprising Barry; he’d expected more of a fight on this, but Caitlin just nodded her head and gave him a soft, supportive smile.

“ _Seriously_?” Cisco muttered, eyebrows raised. But then he just shrugged it off too. “Fine, whatever, I’ll bite. Let’s assume that it wasn’t Cold… how are we going to find out who it _really_ was? Do you have any leads?”

“Nothing yet,” Barry said, as he placed his bag on the desk and opened the cool box which he kept inside of it, taking out one of the crime scene samples and handing it to Caitlin. “But I took an extra sample of the ice. I thought we could run a few tests and see if there’s anything abnormal about it.” Cait stood up and took the sample container over towards a prep table, removing a slice of the ice and beginning to prepare it for microscopic examination.

“You’re thinking meta?” Cisco asked, nodding to himself. “I suppose that makes sense. There’s not really that much machinery out there that can create that kind of instant damage. Except for the cold gun, of course.” Cisco raised his hands placentally before Barry could interrupt. “I’m just sayin’… maybe we should track Cold down anyway, ask a few questions, see if he knows anything. If it’s really not Snart, then we can at least rule him out, and maybe even find out if there’s someone else running around out there with similar tech.”

Barry sighed and nodded, conceding to Cisco’s point. Barry thought that Len would have said something to him sooner if he’d known of anyone out there with a cold gun of their own, but he would inquire about it anyway, just in case.

“Sure,” Barry agreed. “It doesn’t hurt to ask a few questions.” He was going to speak to Len about this anyway, but Barry’s intentions had been more along the line of warning Len than questioning him.

“Do you want me to track the cold gun?” Cisco asked, already wheeling his chair closer towards the computer, ready to do just that.

“No,” Barry said, maybe a little too quick and abrupt. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No, that’s okay, I have an idea where he is anyway.”

“Care to share?” Cisco asked, and Barry chewed a little on his bottom lip. The only answer he could come up with, though, was Saints and Sinners. He’d rather not give that little detail away to his friends, but he supposed it was a much better idea than the truth that he had a criminal’s phone number and home address.

“Yeah…” Barry nodded. “Sure, yeah. Well, I can usually find Snart downtown at this b-”

“I don’t think we really need to know the details,” Caitlin interrupted, making both Barry and Cisco frown at her. “I just mean… reasonable deniability, and all that,” she muttered. “We can probably live without knowing how to contact a wanted criminal.”

“I guess…” Cisco said, sounding a little disappointed. Barry wanted to laugh at that, figuring Cisco was probably hoping Barry’s information would lead him to a casual ‘run-in’ with Lisa Snart.

And, actually, when Barry thought about it like that… yeah, it was probably a good idea that Cisco _didn’t_ know about Saints and Sinners, just in case he showed up on a Thursday night and began to unravel Barry’s little lie.

“I have to go,” Barry said, not elaborating further. The thirty minutes were nearly up now, and Barry was eager to get to Len’s house and hopefully clear this whole mess up. “Let me know if you find anything,” he said, packing up all of his things and slinging the bag back over his shoulder before he took off running again, too anxious to wait for their response. He regretted that almost instantly, thinking it was probably a bit rude, and decided to buy them both cronuts to make up for it.

Barry slowed down to a walk in an alleyway a couple of blocks from Len’s house, wishing that he could just run the entire way there but knowing that it was probably a bad idea. When he _finally_ got to Len’s house, he didn’t have to wait much longer before Len opened the door to him and let him inside.

The front door opened into the living area, and Barry was momentarily distracted from his racing thoughts as his eyes caught onto a familiar drink sitting on Len’s coffee table.

“Is that…?” Barry asked, unable to even finish the sentence in his own surprise, sure he must have been hallucinating the blue iced coffee, visible in the clear disposable Jitters cup.

“I thought I’d give it a try,” Len shrugged, making Barry grin. Here Captain Cold was, drinking a coffee named after himself. Barry had just _known_ that Len would get a kick out of this whole thing!

“And?”

“I hate it,” Len deadpanned, moving past Barry and into the living room, waving his hand at the coffee cup as he took a seat. “You’re welcome to have the rest,” he said, and Barry flushed a bright red, becoming all hot and bothered instantly before Len had even spoken the words which Barry was sure were coming. “Remind yourself of what I _taste like_.”

God, Barry hated him.

“Nah, I think I prefer the Mirror Master,” Barry lied. The drink which Jitters had named after Sam Scudder was a white chocolate mocha frappe, served with whipped cream, a dark chocolate syrup, and chocolate shavings. It looked nice enough, but Barry wasn’t a big fan of white chocolate so he didn’t think he would order one. But Barry knew Len, and he knew that there was no one who got on Len’s nerve more than Sam Scudder did. As Barry watched, he saw Len’s eyes darken a shade, his lips settling into an unhappy scowl.

“Sure, if you like pretentious and boring, then go ahead,” Len rebutted, and Barry couldn’t help but laugh.

“I thought you didn’t care about this whole Jitters competition?”

“I don’t,” Len insisted, but Barry could see through his act. “Why are you here, Barry?” Len asked, changing the subject, “I thought it was important.”

“It is,” Barry sighed, his smile dropping from his lips as he was reminded of the urgent matter at hand. Barry sat down on a nearby armchair as he took a second to think through what he was going to say, wishing that he had accepted that coffee after all so that he would at least have something to occupy his hands with to keep himself from fidgeting. “Do you know of anyone else who has a cold gun?” Barry asked, and Len was instantly frowning, leaning forward and putting his weight onto his elbows.

“Someone has my gun?” he asked, not sounding happy in the slightest.

“There was a robbery last night, a few priceless paintings stolen and a security guard iced,” Barry listed off. “I’ve only ever seen the cold gun capable of something like that.” Barry hadn’t thought Len’s eyes could go any darker but, apparently, they could. There was a sharpness, an anger, hidden behind those blue eyes now. And there was something else in that gaze too, something hidden behind the rage and the walls which Len built up around himself; something that looked surprisingly like…

“Are you asking me if I killed someone last night, Barry?”

Hurt.

Len was angry, and he was hurt.

“No,” Barry said quickly, leaning forward in his seat and placing his hand on Len’s knee. It wasn’t something he’d really intended on doing, more instinctual than anything else, but Barry was surprised when Len didn’t attempt to pull away from his touch. Barry didn’t let himself think about that right then, however; he just kept on talking, trying his best to take away any doubt which Len had about Barry’s feelings on the matter. “No, Len, I trust you; I trust _in_ you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

And Barry didn’t just mean ‘ _here_ ’ as in right now in Len’s living room. He meant it in the way that he’d defended Len to Caitlin, and Cisco, and Joe, and Eddie. He meant it in way that Barry kept returning to Saints week in and week out. And before that, even… before all of this madness with the Rogues had started last month, when Barry had kept seeking Len out for his help on cases, even the ones which probably didn’t need a thief’s touch. And Barry meant it in the less physical ways too: he was here for Len, through the good and the bad.

Barry didn’t quite know how to put that all into words, but he thought – _hoped_ – that Len understood it all anyway.

Slowly, Len nodded.

“I don’t know of anyone else who has a gun like mine,” Len said. “But, if there is someone out there with one, I want them stopped.” Len’s voice wasn’t as dark and betrayed as it had sounded earlier, and Barry felt relief at that, giving Len’s knee a light, comforting squeeze as he nodded, about to make his promise to stop the bad guy when Len started speaking again. “And I’m going to help.”

“You are?” Barry asked, surprised. Len smirked and stood up, making Barry’s hand fall away from his knee as he did.

“I can’t very well let someone go around besmirching the good Captain Cold name now, can I?” Len drawled, and Barry continued to blink up at his friend in surprise for another moment before he nodded and stood too, _just about_ managing to control his expression. “So?” Len asked. “Partners?”

He almost sounded insecure about the whole thing, and somehow that was all the more endearing to Barry; to see the big bad Captain Cold – a man who was both feared and revered by the whole of Central City – not only offering up his help, free of charge, but also looking almost _timid_ as he waited for Barry’s response… Well, it was a sight that Barry would have never before imagined.

Barry didn’t even need to consider Len’s request, knowing right away what his answer was before the shock of Len’s offer had even worn off.

“Partners,” Barry agreed, smiling and sealing the deal with a handshake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long can I go without Barry finding out that everyone thinks he and Len are dating, you ask?  
> As long as I possibly can :D  
> I don’t care if it’s unrealistic, I’m having fun.
> 
> PS. I’ve extended the chapter count for this fic a little bit, so it’s probably going to be 12 or 13 chapters now instead of 10!
> 
> PSS. I’m also considering doing some sort of a poll so that you guys can help me to decide which of the nine Rogues coffees will win the Jitters’ competition. Would any of you be interested in that?
> 
> EDIT: I'm officially doing a poll! The link for that can be found [here](https://linkto.run/p/QVHMFVL6)! (It has all of the details of the drinks ready for you). And if you don't want to vote but would like to see the menu anyway, I have also made [a tumblr post about it](https://pieprincess-andthe-fallenangel.tumblr.com/post/611950510523793408/i-spent-far-too-much-time-making-this-menu-but) :D enjoy


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skip over a fair bit in this chapter because, if I didn't, this one afternoon would have surely dragged on to cover at least 3 chapters. That might have been fun actually, but I thought it would be unnecessary and would make it lose that spark of eye-rolling humour that we've come to know and love from Barry's POVs.
> 
> I'm also sorry if it reads a little jumpy. I've had a lot going on in my personal life - courtesy of this damn covid-19 and the travel bans - so the only time I've found when I could edit my work was last thing at night, right when I am so sleepy that my eyes are blurring... Sorry about that. If you notice anything that reads a bit off then feel free to let me know and I'll take another crack at it!

“You don’t look very pleased to see me, Detective,” Len drawled as he and Barry entered the cortex to be confronted by Barry’s friends. Joe West was scowling at Len now, his arms crossed and his posture frigid. Clearly, he did not approve of Len being here with the rest of Barry’s team, but he didn’t outright say it.

Yet.

West wasn’t the only one glaring Len’s way either. His partner, Detective Thawne, was also none too happy to see him, and the same went for Cisco too. And as for Caitlin Snow… well, the good doctor seemed to be refusing to even look Len’s way.

Len didn’t mind that though; he’d been looked down on by the ‘ _good folk_ ’ of Central City for his entire life. He’d long since gotten used to it by now and learnt to expect it from every so-called ‘ _good_ ’ man he’d met. At least this time, Len deserved those looks. He’d hurt every single person in this room in one way or another, even Barry – _especially_ Barry.

But Barry didn’t look at him that way. Once upon a time, he had done, but not anymore. Now, somehow, Barry _trusted_ Len. Len didn’t deserve that trust, he knew, and he’d gone so far as to abuse it before for his own gain at Ferris Air. But Barry had forgiven him. And Len had been taking that for granted, he realised. Thinking back on how he’d felt earlier this morning when he’d thought Barry was accusing him of killing that security guard…

Len hadn’t liked that feeling. It had sat wrong like lead in the pit of his stomach, like icy air stabbing at the back of his throat, like a heat sitting in his lungs and making it harder to breathe.

Somehow, Barry had forced his way into Len’s life, into the small circle of people who he actually gave a damn about. Len had known this for a while, though he had been reluctant to admit it to himself; but now… Now, he didn’t like the thought of Barry losing faith in him. He hated it, in fact.

That particular revelation was unsettling, to say the least. There was a reason why the list of people who Len cared about was so short, and that was because it just made his life so much easier.

Like now, for example. If Barry hadn’t somehow wormed his way into Len’s life, then Len wouldn’t be standing here in a room filled with people who hated him, trying to play nice. Instead, he would be out there with Mick and Lisa, tracking this guy down in their own way.

“Come on, guys,” Barry pleaded. “We need Snart’s help.”

Snart…

It had been over a month since Barry had last called him ‘ _Snart_ ’. It sounded strange to hear that name on his lips now. Wrong, even.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” West muttered, but he didn’t move to say anything else, seeming to bite his words back for his son’s benefit. Len respected that, if nothing else.

Joe West appeared to be a good father to Barry, and – not having had one of those for himself – Len recognised the importance of that. Especially as Barry’s _biological_ father had been so recently taken out by the speedster they called Zoom…

Len was just glad that Barry had the support of his friends and family to fall back on, even if said support was a pain in Len’s ass.

“And _I’m_ still not so sure that the person we’re looking for isn’t you,” Cisco muttered, proving Len’s point about the whole ‘ _pain in the ass_ ’ part. But before Len could drawl back a remark, Snow was talking.

“I am,” she said, surprising everyone in the room, Len included. Though he tried not to show that as his eyes flickered to her face. Caitlin glanced his way, making eye contact with Len only briefly before her gaze turned to Barry instead. “I ran a few tests on the ice from the crime scene, and I found traces of DNA in there. You were right, we’re definitely looking for a meta.”

“Have you run it against the police database?” Thawne asked, and Caitlin nodded her head but confirmed that she’d found no matches. Barry didn’t actually look too disappointed by that, his pride at being proven right about Len outweighing everything else. And that little show of support for him, that proof that Barry really _did_ believe him, served to ease Len’s tension just that little bit further.

“See, okay, it wasn’t- it wasn’t Snart,” Barry said. Len felt the corner of his lips tugging up into a smile as he watched Barry just barely catching himself before he could accidentally call the big bad Captain Cold ‘ _Len_ ’, and reveal to the room that they were significantly closer than anyone realised. “So, can we just move past this and work together?”

“Fine,” West said, but the unhappy scowl appeared to be a permanent feature on his face now. Len wondered how the guy would react if he ever learnt about who Barry spent his Thursday nights with. Or, for that matter, if he ever found out that the Rogues all thought that Barry was Len’s boyfriend…

“What’s our next step?” Cisco asked, looking to diffuse the tension that had once again arisen in the room, and Detective Thawne took a step forward.

“We have a couple of leads to run down,” he said. “But if the DNA didn’t match anyone in the system, then that already crosses a few suspects off our list.” Len included, he was sure. Barry may have wiped Len’s record squeaky clean a couple of years ago, but his recent stint in Iron Heights after icing his old man meant that Len was once again a wanted man, with fingerprints and DNA all stored safe and sound in his brand new police file. Truthfully, Len didn’t care too much about that. He’d had a record since he was a kid, and he’d done just fine despite it. Sure, it had been fun knowing that he didn’t have to watch his back – at least not where it concerned the CCPD, anyway – but Len hadn’t actually _needed_ Barry to clear his name; that had just been a little bonus on top of his plan to secure the metas for his Rogues.

Len didn’t feel guilty about that.

He _didn’t_.

It had worked out well enough for the both of them: Len got his team of metas, and Barry got out of it with no casualties – well, except for that guy who could shoot lasers from his eyes… but that had been unavoidable, really – and with his conscience clear.

Len _didn’t_ feel guilty.

“Care to loop us in?” Len drawled, choosing to focus on the case at hand rather than the deeds of the past.

“Well, if we take out everyone with a criminal record,” Thawne said, “we’ve still got a couple of disgruntled ex-employees to track down.” West flashed Thawne a purposeful look, and Thawne immediately shut up after that, choosing to stay quiet to avoid the wrath of Joe West.

“I’m going to take a look at the hospital records from the night of the accelerator explosion,” Barry said when the tension in the room began to rise again. “See if I can find anyone who was brought in with ice-related injuries.”

“You have access to that?” Len asked, though he wasn’t sure why he was surprised; for a team of superheroes and cops, they sure broke a lot of laws.

“Yeah, we have a hacker friend who hooked us up with all sorts of goodies a few years back,” Barry boasted. Len’s mind instantly flickered back to the woman from Star City who had been in town when Len and Barry first fought as Captain Cold and the Flash: Felicity Smoak. Len had done his research into Miss Smoak after his first run-in with the team; but, for the most part, she kept out of Central City, and so he hadn’t considered her to be much of a threat to him or his Rogues. Now, though, Len was beginning to re-think that.

“We also have access to tech which can drop anyone that crosses us into a city of, not-so-friendly, psychic apes,” Joe said, eyes trained directly on Len. Barry only sighed and dropped his head into his hands in tired frustration.

“Charming,” Len drawled, brushing off the thinly veiled threat with a smirk; Joe just grunted and turned his attention to his foster son instead.

“We’ve gotta go, Barr. Do me a favour and try to keep yourself out of trouble,” Joe said. Barry looked as though he wanted to roll his eyes but, instead, he nodded and smiled. Then the detectives left, and it wasn’t until they were both out of sight that Barry’s shoulders finally relaxed.

“Uh,” Cisco muttered, eying Len uneasily and speaking up again now that West was no longer around. “Not to take Joe’s side here or anything, Barry. But while you’re searching to ID the meta, and Caitlin and I are working on a way to track him, what, I ask, is Snart’s role in this?”

“I thought I would just stand here and look pretty,” Len drawled sarcastically, earning a snort of amusement from Barry, along with a look of bewilderment from Cisco, while Caitlin just cleared her throat and averted her gaze uneasily. Len waited for just a second longer before speaking up again, shrugging as he did. “I’m here to make sure Barry doesn’t get turned into a _Flash_ -icle.” Len paused and smirked as he amended his statement. “By anyone other than me, that is.”

“In your dreams,” Barry said, quick and playful, and Len’s smirk only grew wider as he sent the Flash a wink.

“You got me there.”

“Snart can help me to go through the crime scene photos and identify anything we’ve missed,” Caitlin said, answering Cisco’s question before Barry got a chance to respond. Len thought about what she said and nodded; he supposed he didn’t really have all that much else to offer the team at this stage, but Len knew crime scenes better than anyone else in this room. Better than Barry, even. Sure, the kid seemed decent enough at his job, but he’d never been stuffed inside a jewellery store’s air duct at the age of ten, waiting for hours until the owner left so that he could sneak out and unlock the door for his father’s crew. Barry had never had to plan a heist. He’d never had to pickpocket and steal just to make ends meet. Nor had he made a mistake and wound up in Iron Heights for it; Barry had never needed to learn and adapt to keep at the top of his game. But Len had.

“It couldn’t hurt to take a look,” Snart said once Barry turned to him, looking for an answer. Caitlin gave Len a polite smile and led him away from the middle of the cortex and into one of the side rooms. 

She moved towards a desk in the far corner of the lab, and Len took a moment to glance around, having not been in this part of the building before. When he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw Barry and Cisco through the glass wall which separated this room from the last. They were talking, but the glass was thick enough that the sound of their conversation didn’t carry through it to Len’s ears.

“You know, Barry’s a really great guy,” Snow said softly, gaining Len’s full attention as she cleared up space on the desk. “Kind, open, trusting… he has a heart of gold, really, even after everything that he’s been through. And he’s been through more than most do in their whole lifetime.” Len couldn’t agree more. He’d seen lesser men crumble and break under _half_ of the weight of what Barry had suffered, but Barry was strong. Strong enough to not give in, to keep his head held above the water, to keep fighting. Len had always respected that about him. “Barry’s giving you another chance here, so I’m willing to give you a chance too,” Caitlin continued, finally turning back to face Len once again. “But if you hurt him… if you break his trust again…” Caitlin’s eyes were dark and sharp, holding Len’s gaze with her own and not backing down. “Joe isn’t going to be the only one you’ll have to worry about.”

Len had no doubt that she meant that. She might not have been a detective like West was, but Snow was a loyal and protective friend with a brilliant mind, and she had access to the highest standard of tech and the best software which money could buy – or hack into, apparently – and Len wouldn’t underestimate that.

But he had no interest in breaking his deal with Barry this time around. He was adamant that this wasn’t going to be like Ferris Air: Barry wouldn’t find himself down in the dirt, not if Len had anything to say about it.

Len didn’t attempt to put those thoughts into words, though; he didn’t know if he’d be able to even if he tried. He made no excuses or explanations or promises. Instead, he nodded.

“Noted,” Len acknowledged.

Caitlin stared him down for a moment longer before wordlessly turning around and getting back to work.

[] [] []

Len seemed on-edge today. Barry could see it in the way that his friend moved and spoke, in the way his shoulders hadn’t relaxed for so much as a second since entering STAR Labs, in the way his eyes remained sharp and calculating. Barry had to wonder if there was something else going on there which he didn’t know about.

He tried to shake that thought off, tried to reason with himself that it was merely because Len was surrounded by people he probably thought of as enemies. Because, sure, Len and Barry had become unlikely friends over these past few months – or years, really… Barry wasn’t _entirely_ certain when their dynamic had begun to switch from enemies to what it was now, but he could admit that he hadn’t considered Len a villain in a very long time – but the rest of Team Flash weren’t exactly happy to have Len’s help on this case.

Though Barry couldn’t help but think that at least _one_ member of his team might have been singing a different tune if Len had chosen to bring a specific Rogue along with him today… But they had left Lisa out of this, much to Cisco’s dismay and Barry’s relief. It wasn’t that Barry didn’t like Len’s sister – he’d actually grown quite fond of most of the Rogues lately, and Lisa was no exception to that – but it was for the best that she wasn’t here. With how much time Barry was spending around the Rogues lately, he couldn’t risk any of them recognising him while he was in the Flash suit. Though, of course, Barry couldn’t tell any of his team that without giving away the big secret which he’d been keeping.

“Are you okay, Barry?” Cisco asked, bringing Barry back out of his head. He realised he’d just been staring at Len through the glass wall separating them for the past few minutes without saying anything. Barry shook his head now to disperse all of his worries, hoping to clear his thoughts long enough to get to work.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Barry said. He smiled back at Cisco for a second, but he couldn’t help it when his eyes glanced back towards where Len sat in the other lab.

“Are you sure? You haven’t been yourself all day,” Cisco said. He glanced over at Len as well then before turning back to Barry and lowering his voice to a whisper. “If it’s because Cold’s here, then we can just ask him to leave,” he said. “I know you want to give Snart a second chance here, but you don’t owe him anything. None of us do.”

“What? No. That’s not what it is,” Barry insisted, and Cisco leant back in his chair, studying Barry once again, the look in his eyes urging Barry to explain. “It’s just… do you think this case is getting to Snart?” Barry finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think he’s acting a little… cold?” Barry asked, and Cisco laughed at him.

“Isn’t that Snart’s whole _thing_?” he joked, but Barry just shook his head. How was he supposed to explain this?

“He’s being blamed for crimes he didn’t commit,” Barry said, trying from a new angle. “That’s got to be hard. Even for Captain Cold.”

“I guess,” Cisco admitted, still not seeming sure. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” He turned to look at Len for another moment and was frowning when he faced Barry again. “He doesn’t seem any different than normal.”

Barry nodded and let it drop after that, turning his gaze back to his computer and at least trying to _look_ busy with his work. Barry’s worries still plaques him though, and Cisco’s words had done nothing to calm that. Because, of course Cisco wouldn’t see it: he didn’t know Len like Barry did. But that didn’t mean that there was nothing wrong.

Barry decided to keep an eye on it – more discreetly this time – for now.

Eventually, Len and Cait rejoined them in the cortex, and the four went over everything they’d put together since Joe and Eddie had left which, admittedly, wasn’t much.

In fact, they didn’t make any significant breakthrough that night, and the team soon got tired with their lack of answers.

At one point, Barry must have rested his eyes, because he woke up again at STAR Labs still, with his head rested against a notebook. The cortex was dark, with all of the overhead lights turned off, and all of the monitors gone to sleep along with the team. The only light in the room was filtering in from the corridor, so it took Barry a moment to realise what had woken him: the scent of coffee made Barry’s stomach rumble, and he smiled, sitting up and unsticking himself from the pages attached to his face.

That earned Barry a laugh from… someone. Someone who Barry couldn’t quite see because they were standing with the corridor light directly behind them, covering their face in shadows. But the laugh was warm and hearty, and it pulled a smile from Barry in return.

“Nice to see you getting stuck into your work,” Len drawled, and Barry rolled his eyes. _Of course_ , it was Len. Barry was going to make a retort, but then he realised that – although Caitlin was nowhere to be seen – Cisco was also in the room, fast asleep by his computer. Barry stood, rolling his shoulders and hearing them pop and click as he moved towards the source of light and into the corridor. Len followed, handing him a to-go cup as he did, the heat from the coffee seeping into Barry’s skin and soothing him.

“I thought you were going home for the night,” Barry said, inhaling the scent of his drink and feeling his eyes flutter closed against his will. When he opened them again, Len was smiling at him and leaning back against the opposite wall.

“I did,” Len said. “Last night. It’s morning,” he told Barry. And… huh. Barry guessed that was why his neck hurt so much, and also why the coffee cup Len had handed him looked suspiciously similar to the ones they used at Jitters – but Barry _knew_ that they closed after 9 pm.

"No Captain Cold?" Barry asked, raising the cup in his hand to indicate his meaning. Len rolled his eyes, but Barry could see the amusement sparkling in them, even as he tried to smother it down and not let it show.

"It's 6 am.”

"It's coffee!" Barry defended, and Len shook his head. Truthfully, though, Barry was rather glad to have a nice warm drink this morning, as opposed to the chilled blueberry frappe which he’d taken to ordering from Jitters as of late. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend the Captain Cold signature drink to his dying breath, if only because Barry knew that Len hated it.

"It's sugar," Len corrected, and Barry tried his best not to laugh.

“Drinks do tend to have more than one ingredient,” Barry said before raising his coffee cup to his lips and taking his first sip. But it was _not_ as good as it smelt. “Ew,” Barry complained, pulling a face. “Is this _decaf_?” he accused. Len didn’t even look guilty. In fact, his smile grew further.

“You need to cut down on the caffeine,” he said. “It’s not good for you.”

“You are truly evil. How did I never see this before?”

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

“This doesn’t even deserve the title of ‘ _coffee_ ’. It’s just _bean juice_ with milk and sugar,” Barry announced, which earned him another laugh from Len, even as the man tried his best to stop it and hide it away. “Anyway, you’re one to talk, aren’t you? You have a lot more vices than I do!”

“Name one,” Len prompted, and Barry arched an eyebrow at Len’s clear denial. But, okay, sure, if they were going to play this game then Barry wouldn’t be pulling any punches.

“Uh, _thievery_ ,” Barry said, counting the first one off on his finger while trying not to drop his coffee cup or spill the hot drink all down himself. “Cold puns…”

“Karaoke?” Len added, and Barry did his best not to laugh at the reminder of how the Rogues thought Len and Barry had first met.

“Alcohol,” Barry continued, barely missing a beat, and Len pulled a face.

“A few beers every now and then isn’t going to hurt me.”

“Well, it’s certainly not going to do you any good either,” Barry said. He opened his mouth to continue, but then snapped it shut again once an idea came to mind. He took another sip of his not-coffee in an attempt to hide his smile, but Len caught it anyway.

“Barry, I swear to God,” Len said, “if you somehow manage to switch out my drinks for non-alcoholic beers tonight and I have to put up with Sam and Rosa while entirely sober…” It was almost as though he was able to pick the thoughts right out of Barry’s mind. “I _will_ kill you.”

“You’d have to catch me first,” Barry muttered into his cup, barely managing to hold back his laugh as he watched Len’s eyes narrow in a warning. They stared each other down for a few more seconds, Barry refusing to be the first to look away… which was maybe why he didn’t see that Cisco had woken up and was now standing, staring at them, from the doorway to the cortex. But then Cisco cleared his throat and Barry flinched so hard that he thought he might jump out of his skin.

He felt his face flush bright red as he spun to look at Cisco, though Barry could still feel Len’s eyes on him, watching.

“Uh, morning,” Barry said as casually as he could manage. “Len’s – I mean _Snart’s_ ” Barry quickly corrected himself, but it was too late to take the nickname back now, and Cisco had _definitely_ noticed it. “Snart’s back. He brought decaf. It sucks,” Barry finished but then realised Len had only brought himself and Barry a drink. Which… yeah, that definitely was not going to help the situation any.

“Actually, _I_ have a cappuccino with an extra shot,” Len corrected, and Barry glared at him. Because A: not helping. And B: _evil_.

“What…” Cisco started and then just shook his head, running a hand down his face. “Nope, it’s far too early in the morning to deal with this,” he muttered, walking right past Barry and down the corridor. Barry stared after Cisco for a moment before returning to glare back at Len again.

“Remember how adamant you were that you’re a good liar?” Len teased, and Barry groaned, throwing his head up to face the ceiling and banging it heavily against the wall behind.

It was about an hour later when Barry got a phone call from Cisco, asking him to come to meet him outside for a moment. Barry tried not to let that ominous and short call get him nervous. He and Len were friends, and it might be a bit unconventional, but it worked. And, sure, Barry had been trying to hide this from his team. But not because there was anything _wrong_ with his and Len’s relationship! He’d just been worried about how everyone would react to knowing he was friends now with so many supervillains.

That was all.

So, what if Cisco now knew about it? Nothing was going to change because of that… right?

Barry nodded to himself and patted Len on the shoulder as he stood up and ran away to meet Cisco outside. His friend was waiting by the entrance to the labs, freshly showered and looking remarkably more awake than he had an hour ago.

“Hey,” Barry said, coming to a stop a few feet away. He was a little relieved, actually, that Cisco was alone. A part of Barry had worried that Cisco would return with Caitlin or, even worse, _Joe_ by his side. This way was better. If he could convince Cisco that his friendship with Len was nothing to worry about, then maybe he’d be able to convince his other friends too?

Barry could only hope.

“Hey,” Cisco said, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck and refusing to make eye contact. “Sorry about… _this_ ,” he muttered, lifting his phone for a second before shoving it back into his jacket pocket. “I just… I didn’t know exactly what I would be walking into in there,” he laughed. However, he sounded very uncomfortable about it.

“I get that you’re a bit freaked,” Barry said, raising his hands in a calming manner.

“ _That’s_ the understatement of the century,” Cisco muttered.

“But, I promise you,” Barry continued. “Me and Len…” God, how was he going to describe his friendship with Leonard Snart? “It’s good,” was all Barry could settle on. “I mean, I know it makes no sense. We shouldn’t like each other, we’re basically enemies as the Flash and Captain Cold,” Barry admitted, and Cisco nodded along in agreement. “But… he’s different once you get him out of that parka,” Barry laughed, and Cisco pulled a face.

“Please, stop,” Cisco complained, making Barry laugh even harder. He understood why Cisco was having a hard time with this, he did: it was difficult to change your mind about someone once it had already been made up. Cisco looked at Len and saw only Captain Cold. He didn’t see past Len’s persona, hadn’t had the chance to…

“Are you going to tell Joe about this?” Barry asked the question which had been worrying at the back of his head ever since Cisco had left this morning. Joe hated Len, there was no denying it. He’d been trying to arrest him since long before the Flash came into the picture, and Barry knew that Joe would be the most difficult one to convince; he always was…

“No, of course not,” Cisco said, sounding offended. “Come on, dude. I may not completely approve, but I’ve still got your back,” he said, and Barry breathed a sigh of relief, nodding his thanks. Cisco looked towards the door and back, and Barry could tell there was one more thing he wanted to say. “So… this is what you’ve been doing with your Thursday nights for the past two months?” Cisco muttered, and Barry nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, biting his lip a little while trying to think of the best way to explain everything _else_ to his friend too. Barry was eager to finally tell the truth… but Cisco was barely able to accept Barry’s friendship with Len, so how would he take it once he knew Barry had accidentally become an honorary member of Len’s _Rogues_ last month?

Before Barry could get another word out, though, Cisco started laughing. It was just a quick huff, but the smile remained on his face, and it made Barry relax a little further.

“I knew you weren’t having weekly movie nights,” Cisco said, shaking his head and sounding remarkably calmer about it now than he had done just a few moments earlier. “All this time… I can’t believe you’ve been sle-”

Cisco abruptly shut up as a car pulled into the STAR Labs car park: _Joe’s_ car.

Barry tensed again, but Cisco patted his shoulder, wordlessly reminding Barry that he was there for him.

“Are you two up early or very, very late?” Joe asked as he climbed out of the car in front of them.

“Early,” Barry answered, hoping that it would make the worry in Joe’s eyes dissipate. It didn’t.

“Though not early enough,” Cisco muttered, rolling his shoulders and stretching. “I probably could have done with waking up a couple of hours sooner and retiring to an actual bed. My neck is going to kill me all day,” he complained, and Barry nodded in agreement, although his own aching and stretched muscles had already healed themselves. “I think I’ll head home for a couple of hours.”

“Maybe you should do the same, Barr,” Joe said, “before Snart shows his face. _If_ Snart comes back again at all, that is,” Joe quickly corrected himself, and Barry found himself jumping to Len’s defence.

“He’s already here,” Barry said. “He’s an early riser.” Which Barry knew based on the multiple occasions this past week where he’d woken up to a text from Len, sent at some ungodly hour and usually taunting Barry about the Flash’s nightly escapades.

“Or that’s what Snart said when he showed up an hour ago,” Cisco quickly interjected, covering Barry’s back before Barry had even realised that he’d let a detail slip which the Flash had no reason to know. “Secretly, I think he just couldn’t wait to see me again. I mean…” Cisco paused, gesturing to his face now that he had Joe’s full attention, “can you blame him? Everyone wants a piece of this.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Joe laughed, and Barry let out an inaudible sigh of relief; he _really_ needed to learn how to think before he spoke.

Barry sent Cisco a quick smile as a thank you, and Cisco quickly returned it with a nod. Barry supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that his friend would so quickly accept Barry’s friendship with Captain Cold, considering how he still quite obviously carried a torch for Golden Glider. Still, it felt good to be reminded of it anyway. Barry would have to find a way to make it up to his friend once this was all over and done with.

“Come on,” Joe said to Barry. “We’d better get to the cortex before Snart gets it in his head to steal your suit.” Barry rolled his eyes but followed his foster father back inside anyway, confident that there was going to be one hell of a long day to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s right, I’m bad. More and more people are coming to the conclusion that Barry and Len are a thing, and yet Barry still remains oblivious to it all xD
> 
> If you’re interested, then [click here](https://linkto.run/p/QVHMFVL6) to cast your vote on which of the signature Rogues drinks will win the Jitters competition! I have locked the results so that only I can see who’s winning, but I’ve stopped checking up on it now and I’m not sneak a peak again until the time comes for me to write the winner, which probably won’t be until late April time, if not later. So we're all in the dark here!  
> I drew the graphics for each of the drinks which you'll find on the poll, they're pretty standard doodles but if you’d like to see a higher resolution for them – or if you’d like to share the poll with your tumblr followers – then you can do that [here](https://pieprincess-andthe-fallenangel.tumblr.com/post/611950510523793408/i-spent-far-too-much-time-making-this-menu-but)!
> 
> As you can see, I’m having a lot of fun here with all of this, and I hope you guys are too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to hold off on updating for another night or two, but I couldn't help myself! Enjoy!

“Calm down, Barry,” Len drawled. “No one's going to catch us.”

“You don’t know that.”

Barry was, admittedly, nervous about the whole situation. He licked out to moisten his lips, sucking one in between his teeth and worrying at it as he looked down at where Len was kneeling on the ground in front of him. Len smirked, the light from the setting sun hitting his eyes and making them glow a warm blue as he looked back up at Barry.

“You worry too much, Kid,” Len purred. “You need to learn to slow down, relax, enjoy the finer things in life.”

“Like breaking into a building?” Barry deadpanned, and Len’s smirk only widened; he twisted the handle, and the door in front of them opened. “You know I could have just phased us through the door, right?” Len was standing again now, shaking his head and gesturing for Barry to go in first as he pocketed the swiss army knife that he’d used to pick the lock.

“And where would the fun be in that?”

“- _I still don’t understand why you needed to break in anyway_ -” said Iris over the comms, a reminder that Barry and Len were not, in fact, alone on their mission. Barry wasn’t wearing his Flash suit today though, nor was Len dressed in his parka – the whole idea being to blend into their surroundings, not stand out from them – but they were both wearing the earpieces which Cisco had provided on Joe’s request (read: demand).

Barry couldn’t fault his foster father much, though. Joe had made significant improvements where his anger and distrust towards Len was concerned – in fact, he hadn’t threatened to shoot Len even once today! – but there was clearly still a long way to go there.

“Where else would we get a better view of the Central City Art Museum?” Len asked, answering Iris’ question. “To watch the guards; to learn their timing, their habits?” They climbed up the stairs of the high-rise apartment building as Len spoke, slowly though, careful not to disturb any evidence that may or may not be here. “You all wanted me to play nice, remember; you wanted my help on cases. Well, this is what my help looks like. I’m a thief, a good one, so I know how other thieves work. I can step into their shoes, track their footsteps, show you where they’ve been.”

“- _Are you sure that this guy did any surveillance, though?_ -” Caitlin asked. “- _He killed a guard, doesn’t look to me like he knew what he was doing._ -”

“One guard,” Len said, nodding. “The museum usually has three overnight, all working overlapping shifts so that no one is alone.” Barry didn’t want to think too hard about why Len knew that information. “But one of the guards retired a few days ago, and they’re still interviewing for replacements. Hell of a coincidence then, don’t you think, that our thief would choose this week of all weeks – when the workers are spread so thin – to pull the job? Unless, of course, he knew this was coming.”

No one argued Len’s point after that, and the two of them continued to climb the staircase higher and higher until they reached the roof. Len jimmied that locked open too, and then they were out into the fresh afternoon air. Barry took out a pair of latex gloves, slipping them on as he moved around the rooftop. It wasn’t a shared space, none of the residents had access to this part of the building, and only the landlord had keys. But Barry quickly found cigarette butts on the ground, as well as fast food wrappers and gum.

The DNA wouldn’t do them any good. They already had this meta’s DNA, and they’d run it against every system they knew of but received no hits for their efforts; a fingerprint would likely reveal the same results, but Barry collected the evidence anyway, just in case.

Len was standing by the edge now, looking down onto the street below, and Barry moved closer to him. It was cold tonight, and the wind only grew icier as the sun set on Central City. Barry opened his mouth to make a comment about how Len was probably looking forward to his drinks tonight, how the alcohol would chase away the cold set into his bones. But then Barry caught himself at the last minute and sighed.

“You see anything useful?” he asked, instead.

It had been like this all day; between Joe, Eddie, and Iris popping in and out of the lab whenever they felt like it, and Caitlin getting stuck into her work too, Barry hadn’t found a single minute to be alone with Len since this morning. The same went for Cisco, too. There was always _someone_ around – or, in this case, listening in – preventing Barry from being able to speak what was really on his mind. Keeping his friendship with Len a secret from the rest of his team was becoming increasingly tiring work.

But it was worth it.

Because this way there was no Joe breathing down Len’s neck, no Iris giving Barry disappointed stares, no Caitlin judging their every moment together. Honestly, the fact that Cisco had taken the truth so well was completely unexpected, but it was good to know that he had such a great friend watching his back. He really did owe Cisco one hell of a thank you once this was all over.

“Maybe,” Len said, bringing Barry back to the task at hand. “Is that the only lot nearby that does overnight parking?” he asked, nodding his head towards the lot in question. Barry skimmed his eyes around but couldn’t see anywhere else that someone might be able to park a car.

“- _Seems like_ -” Cisco answered through the comms.

“- _There’s street parking, but it’s residential. Permits only_ -” Cait continued. Barry nodded and asked his friends to check if anyone had been ticketed there over the last few weeks, though he figured it wasn’t likely: only an idiot would risk getting a parking ticket in front of the building that they planned to rob.

“Any way to know what cars have parked there recently?” Len asked, talking about the lot again.

“- _Erm… Yeah!_ -” Cisco said. “- _It has a camera which scans for number plates going past the barriers. I could hack into the system easy, see if there have been any new cars using it lately_ -”

“- _He wouldn’t take his own car though, right?_ -” Iris asked. “- _Any car this meta used is probably stolen_ -”

“- _It might still help, though_ -” Caitlin admitted. Barry and Len did one last look around the rooftop, taking their time to make sure they hadn’t missed anything else, and then Barry ran them back to the lab.

“We have a name,” Cisco said, beaming with pride as they skidded into the lab only ten minutes later.

“Already?” Barry asked. That had to be a new record or something.

“I’m more than just a pretty face,” he bragged, and Barry caught the way Iris rolled her eyes at that. It was playful, though, and only made Barry’s smile bigger.

“Snart was right,” Caitlin said, and Barry turned his grin momentarily to face Len instead as she continued on with their explanation. “Our guy was parking there. We picked up a new plate number for a car that had been using that lot every night for the past two weeks, but suspiciously stopped on the night of the robbery and hasn’t shown back up since.”

“Car’s stolen, of course,” Cisco continued. “But there’s this three-way traffic light just down the road from the museum, it’s a pain, I get stuck there every night on the way home even when the streets are empty. I figured I’d hack the cameras – just in case. We got lucky.” Cisco brought the ID up onto one of the big screens in the lab for everyone to see as he spoke. “The camera caught his face and gave us a clear enough image to run through Felicity’s ID software.”

“Victor Fries,” Iris read aloud. “It says he’s a scientist at Mercury Labs. Do you know what he’s been working on?”

“Cold money’s on cryogenics,” Len drawled, and Barry felt his lips twitch into a smile. He moved to the computer and used his superspeed to skim-read Fries’ biography section on the Mercury website, nodding.

“You’re not wrong,” Barry confirmed. “Looks like Fries has been experimenting with cryostasis. Or was, anyway. This page hasn’t been updated since before the accelerator explosion.” Which meant he’d probably been on some sort of sabbatical lately, but not because of his work or else they would have deleted his bio entirely from their system.

Barry was busy contemplating their latest metahuman when Cisco piped up with: “Is anyone else here concerned by the number of scientists who go evil when they get superpowers, or is it just me?”

“You and Barry didn’t,” Iris pointed out, and Cisco nodded, looking very serious before he replied.

“Yet.”

“Hmm,” Len drawled, eying Barry now. “The Flash as a supervillain?” Barry felt his skin heat up under Len’s attention, no matter how preposterous an idea it was. “Now that I could get behind.”

“Keep dreaming,” Barry quickly rebutted, and Len smirked wider.

“Oh, I will.”

Cisco cleared his throat then, and Barry shook off the goosebumps he’d been suddenly overcome with, trying to disperse the static in the room that was making the hairs on his arms stand on end. Barry felt nervous and weak all of a sudden, and he didn’t quite know why – though, he supposed he could hazard a guess.

Despite what his friends all thought of Barry, he wasn’t so squeaky clean.

As the Flash, Barry had hurt many people, captured them and held them hostage without trial and without contact to the outside world… he’d even killed some of them. Bad guys, sure… but they were still _people_ \- regardless of how they chose to live their lives - and the weight of their deaths still weighed on his shoulders.

But, worse still, Barry had _wanted_ to hurt them, _wanted_ to see them dead.

The Flash was a hero, but Barry was only human, and he’d felt the temptation to change sides. He’d felt so much anger and pain, and wondered why he was still fighting, why he didn’t just give in to it all. He’d walked that line too often for his own liking.

But the way that Len was looking at Barry now… it wasn’t just a teasing goad behind his gaze, it was something more; it was almost like Len understood it all. Maybe he did. Maybe Len was the only person in his life who really, truly understood what Barry was going through. Their situations had been different, of course, and the outcome even more so; but Len knew the temptation that Barry felt. He’d given into it long ago…

But Len had come back from that now. Len wasn’t a hero - as he so often liked to remind Barry - but he certainly wasn’t a villain anymore either. And that gave Barry hope. Hope that, no matter how dark he felt, there was always a way back from it all, and there was always someone who would understand.

“Maybe Fries merged with his experimental equipment when the accelerator exploded,” Cait said. “On a cellular level; just like what happened with Stein and Ronnie.”

“We could do with finding out more about his work,” Iris said; Barry nodded in agreement, and Len grinned by his side.

“I say we break into Mercury labs, take a look around at what Fries was cookin’ up back then.”

“Or we could just call Tina McGee and ask her,” Iris said, looking thoroughly unimpressed by Len’s go-to solution.

“And why would she answer your questions?” Len asked, and Barry tried not to look guilty. He really did. He failed. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Len muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. “How many people know your so-called secret identity, Barry?”

“Hey, it’s not- it’s not _that_ many people.”

“Mmhmm.”

Len dropped into a chair then, kicking his feet up onto the top of a nearby desk and smirking. Barry looked to his other friends for back up, but Cisco just averted his gaze, Caitlin made an excuse to leave the room to call Tina for help, and Iris gave Barry a sad smile and a half-shrug.

“As much as I hate to agree with Leonard Snart,” she said, “your identity does kind of get around lately.”

“I thought you wanted me to keep fewer secrets!” Barry said, reminded of the argument he and Iris had gotten into after she’d discovered his identity, and feeling a little sick as he remembered that he was keeping her in the dark about one more aspect of his life once again.

“Yeah, from me,” Iris said, “not from the rest of Central City too.” Barry sighed and ran his hand down his face in frustration.

“I didn’t tell Tina McGee, okay?” he admitted to Len. “She just figured it out.”

“Now that I can believe,” he drawled, and Barry glared back because he was _not_ a terrible liar! He was just surrounded by very smart individuals, was all… Barry didn’t have time to defend himself though before Eddie showed up in the lab again, giving Iris a kiss on her cheek and wrapping his arm over her shoulder.

“Any luck tonight?” he asked the room, glancing at Len but not looking particularly distrustful at his presence in the lab.

“Cisco broke the case wide open,” Iris said, and Cisco preened at the attention. “I’ll fill you in on the way home.”

“Good work, Man,” Eddie complimented, patting Cisco’s shoulder as he and Iris left together.

And then there were three.

And Barry thought that, _finally_ , he could speak to Cisco about this now. _Finally_ , he could answer any questions and check in on how his friend was feeling, clearing up the air for good when it came to Barry’s friendship with Leonard Snart.

But then Caitlin showed back up in the doorway.

“Turns out Fries has been on compassionate leave since his wife died last year; Tina hasn’t heard much from him since,” Cait said, pocketing her phone.

“Ah, that old tale” Cisco said. “Boy meets Girl, Boy falls in love, gets married, but Girl dies-”

“And Boy turns into an ice monster?” Len finished for him, and Cisco nodded, very serious.

“Exactly.”

Well… at least they were getting along.

“She went to check up on him last month,” Cait continued, shaking her head. “But Fries has been sub-letting his house out to a new family, so Tina doesn’t know where to find him now.”

And that was how their trail ran cold.

Barry rang Joe to fill him in on the details, knowing that his foster father was already at home and probably wouldn’t take another look at the case until tomorrow morning, but not wanting to text him such incriminating evidence involving breaking into residential buildings and the hacking of public services…

When he hung up, Len was looking at him pointedly, but Barry didn’t quite get the message that he was trying to pass on until his friend sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, won’t you look at the time,” Len said, drawing Barry’s eyes to the clock on his phone. It was just gone nine o’clock now, on a _Thursday_ night, which meant he and Len were officially both late for the weekly Rogues meeting at Saints. “As fun as all of this has been, I really do have to shoot off.”

It took Len another second before he moved to stand though, looking at Barry in that same way as he had done before, and Barry now saw the look for what it was: an invitation to join him.

Barry knew that he shouldn’t go, he had a lot of work to do here, and he shouldn’t be so casual about shirking his responsibilities so that he could go hang out at a bar with a bunch of supervillains. He was also very aware of how strange it may look to Caitlin if Barry was so eager to leave at the same time as Len.

But…

“That’s a good idea,” Barry said, nodding. “You know, we all had a hard night yesterday, it could do us some good to have a bit of time off. Rest and recoup, you know?” Barry tried his best to not look nervous as he spoke, to not give away his secret about his Thursday nights. Luckily, Caitlin must have been getting restless too, because she quickly agreed.

“Some fresh eyes tomorrow will do us some good,” she nodded, and Cisco was quick to jump in with his own response too.

“Yeah, Barry why don’t you… err, show Cold out while Caitlin and I close up?” he offered, and Barry smiled his thank you in his friend’s direction, glad to know that – despite everything – Cisco really _was_ on Barry’s side here. He’d do his best to help Barry protect his secret friendship with Leonard Snart, at least until Barry was ready to share it with everyone else.

Barry turned to look at Len, who was smirking again now and gesturing dramatically towards the doorway.

“After you,” he drawled, and Barry didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or roll his eyes. He cast one last look back at his friends, and they both nodded at him. Then Cisco flipped a switch, and all of the large monitors in the room went black, none of them able to broadcast video footage of Len and Barry leaving the labs to anyone inside the cortex anymore.

Cisco gave him a subtle wink, and Barry smiled and nodded as he and Len left the room, once again relieved to have such a good friend on his side.

“How much did you tell him?” Len asked a few moments later when they were stepping into the elevator and far enough away to not be overheard. “Does he know about the Rogues?”

“No, not about the meetings,” Barry said. He felt a knot forming in his stomach at the reminder that he was still lying to his best friends. “I didn’t think it would go down well.” He would tell Cisco about it later, once he’d got used to the idea of Len being around more.

“So, he just thinks we’re friends?”

“We _are_ friends,” Barry said. His tone was light, but Len’s words secretly made him worry. Barry _did_ consider Len to be a friend, someone he could trust and rely on, but what if Len felt differently? What if this, all of this, was just him keeping up pretences for Barry’s sake? For the sake of his identity? But Barry’s concerns were quickly wiped clear as Len shrugged, a small – _real_ – smile playing on his lips.

“I guess we are,” Len said, quietly enough that it was almost a whisper; like he was sharing a secret with Barry. It felt intimate in a way that it shouldn’t have. They had reached the exit now, and Len pushed it open, holding it for Barry to walk through first. “I have to say, you’re nothing like the company I usually keep, Barry.”

The way Len said that was almost like he was mystified by it, by Barry, by their… friendship.

And Barry was too, he supposed. It was strange to think of how far he and Len had come over the years, from enemies fighting against one another, to reluctant allies, to _this_.

“Well, you’d better get used to it,” Barry said; because he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

They were outside now, with the fresh night air biting at Barry’s skin. Len’s bike was resting only a few feet away from this exit, and Len walked towards it now.

“Wanna ride?” he offered, and Barry rolled his eyes.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Barry pointed out. After all, he was the speedster in this friendship, and what was a better way to get around than by superspeed? Len shrugged.

“Well, nobody can say I’m not versatile when the time calls for it,” he drawled, and Barry blushed as his mind picked up on the unintended innuendo there, and he had to quickly divert his train of thought in an attempt to not picture… _that_. “But I’d rather not leave my bike here,” Len continued, not knowing how far into the gutter Barry’s mind had just slipped.

“Right, yeah, that, err, that’s fine,” Barry stumbled, trying oh so desperately to think of something else. Like kittens, or puppies, or… or… oh, God Barry’s mind had gone blank! The only thing he could picture was what Len might feel like underneath Barry’s body, and that was _not_ something which Barry wanted to be thinking about right now!

Len bent down to open the compartment under the seat – the slope of his body doing absolutely _nothing_ to stop the intrusive images flashing through Barry’s head – and picked up the spare helmet that he kept there, passing it to Barry.

“If we’re going to arrive together,” Len drawled, his words only egging on the images that Barry was trying so desperately not to think about, “we may as well do it in style.”

Len was pulling his own helmet on now, and moving to straddle the seat, but Barry was suddenly in _no_ condition to be pressed up against Len’s body now. Not because he enjoyed thinking of Len in this way, of course! That would just be… inappropriate. But it had been quite a while since Barry had had any kind of sexual contact, and so – with his hyperactive libido – it was only natural that Barry’s body would respond this way. It didn’t mean anything!

Len was looking at Barry now, expectantly. And Barry didn’t know what to _do_!

“Come on, Kid,” he drawled, patting the space behind him. “I’ll be gentle. Promise.”

Oh, _fuck_.

The world slowed down around Barry as he tried to breathe, tried to force his body to relax, giving himself a little extra time. But all of the time in the world wasn’t going to help if Barry couldn’t stop imagining the press of Len’s skin against his own.

Barry hadn’t felt this embarrassed since that time when he was sixteen and Iris had walked in on him while he’d been _indisposed_.

And, huh, thinking about that now was like a splash of ice-cold water to his body. Barry gritted his teeth and cycled through his most embarrassing teenage memories – from the time he’d broke his wrist dancing in Glee Club trying to do a backflip, to when Tony Woodward pantsed him in front of half of the school.

Cringing, but decidedly less worked-up, Barry finally pulled the helmet on and climbed onto the back of Len’s bike. He felt a little nervous wrapping his arms around Len’s body, considering the intrusive thoughts his brain had just been flooded with, but he did it anyway, and Len laughed, the sound clear and crisp coming through a speaker in the helmet.

“You’re gonna want to hold on tighter than that,” Len drawled, grabbing Barry’s wrist and tugging until Barry’s entire body was pressing up close and tight against Len’s. Thankfully, Barry didn’t have much time to react before Len was revving the engine and swiftly pulling off from the curb. Barry’s mind was so preoccupied with not falling off the damn bike, that he didn’t have all that much opportunity to think on anything else – like the heat which was radiating off of Len’s skin, warm even through the layers which separated them.

“Speeding is a crime, you know,” Barry joked once Len came to a stop at a set of traffic lights not too long later, and he heard that warm laugh filtering in through the speakers again.

“Yeah, and I’m sure that the Flash is keen on obeying traffic laws.”

“Speed limits only apply to vehicles,” Barry quickly rebutted and felt Len’s muscles shift as he shook his head.

“I think that’s only because most people can’t run at the speed of sound.” Barry couldn’t deny Len’s argument there, though he _was_ going to correct Len about his speed – he was able to run _much_ faster than the speed of sound, thank you very much – but then the light changed to green again. Barry tightened his grip against Len’s body as the motorbike sped away and continued weaving in and out of traffic once more. “Besides,” Len’s voice came in through the speakers again, “I’ve got an angel on my shoulder tonight. There is no safer time to speed than when you’ve got the Flash himself watching your back.”

Barry didn’t quite know how to respond to that, surprised by the amount of trust that Len was showing him. But it was true, of course, Barry would never let anything happen so long as he was here to stop it.

It was only a couple of minutes later when Len pulled up outside Saints and Sinners, the rumble of the engine cutting to silence. It was a cold night tonight, and Barry felt reluctant to pull away from the comforting heat of Len’s body, but he slowly unwrapped his hands from where they’d been resting against Len’s chest, and then he shifted away until he could stand again.

Barry felt the static against his hair as he pulled himself free of the helmet and didn’t even need to see Len’s smirk to know that his hair had become a complete staticky disaster. Len removed his own helmet as Barry blindly attempting to adjust it back into a more passable mess, which only served to make Len laugh.

“Here,” he said, standing and removing his gloves so that he could reach out and thread his fingers through Barry’s hair. Barry’s breath stuttered, the feeling of Len’s warm fingers running against his scalp and tugging against his hair only serving as a reminder to Barry about the all too recent, not safe for work, thoughts he’d had of himself and Len today.

And then Len’s cool blue eyes made contact with Barry’s, and his hand froze in Barry’s hair as though he hadn’t realised what he was doing. Barry didn’t want his mind to wander in the direction that it did again now, but he couldn’t help it. He tried to reason with himself that it was normal for one friend to fix another friend’s hair, and it _was_! He could easily picture Iris, or Caitlin, or even Cisco helping him out with a wardrobe malfunction without it getting weird. But it just felt _different_ with Len. He couldn’t say how or why, but it just did.

Barry’s throat felt tight, and he swallowed around a lump forming there. Len noticed, and it drew his eyes to Barry’s lips.

There was a moment of complete stillness; of electricity.

And then the quiet night around them was flooded with loud music as the door to the bar opened, making Barry jump. The hand in his hair fell away, but neither Len nor Barry stepped apart as they both turned to face where Lisa was now standing, a warm yellow light behind her streaming out of the bar and into the dark night beyond, making it difficult for Barry to see her face.

“You’re late,” she said, sounding a little amused by the situation. Len finally took a step back, Barry faced him once again, but Len refused to meet his gaze.

“Maybe Barry’s rubbing off on me,” he drawled, and Barry blushed because Len _had_ to have heard what that sounded like!

However, Len wasn’t jumping to defend himself, nor the odd moment that Lisa had witnessed; but, Barry supposed, he didn’t really _have_ to correct his sister on that one… because guys who looked like Len weren’t interested in guys who looked like Barry, and that was just a fact.

Barry felt a little disheartened by that reminder. Not that he _wanted_ Len to like him! But being reminded of his own dateability – or lack thereof – wasn’t entirely pleasant.

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Lisa’s drawl matched Len’s nearly perfectly, and Barry wanted to roll his eyes at the pair: the two most dramatic siblings which Barry had ever met. Lisa shook her head and wandered back into the bar, the door drifting closed behind her. Len finally looked back to Barry then, but only for a moment before he turned to the bar and followed his sister inside, Barry quick on his tail.

They were nearly 20 minutes late now, and Barry supposed the Rogues weren't used to Len being tardy because everyone in the bar was staring at them both as they walked in. Barry didn’t like the attention on him, making him feel like squirming away somewhere safe and out of sight, but Len didn’t seem at all fazed by it as he went to the bar to order his drink. Barry sat down at the table with a sheepish smile for the rest of the Rogues - everyone except for Mick Rory, who was standing beside Len with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

Lisa was eying Barry from across the table now, and it made him nervous, though he wasn’t sure why, exactly. Nothing had happened between himself and Len, and nothing was going to happen. That moment that Lisa had walked in on? Barry had clearly been reading too far into that. This was _Len_ he was thinking about!

Leonard Snart wasn’t exactly the most easy-going man that Barry knew, and he didn’t make any moves without thinking them through. So, what had happened outside… Len had just surprised himself, was all.

But that was a good thing! These past few months, Barry had really begun to get past all of Len’s layers and see the real man underneath, and Len had become comfortable around him now. And Barry wanted that. He wanted to be around Len, to be more than just his sometimes-ally; to be his friend.

Still, Lisa’s gaze made Barry nervous.

He heard the sound of the coffee machine being used behind the bar, and Barry’s mind caught onto the first topic he could think of and ran with it.

“So, have any of you seen the new coffees at Jitters?” he asked eagerly, and everyone at the table let out a groan with varying levels of frustration and annoyance.

“Oh, Barry, Honey,” Lisa said, almost whispering the words while a disgruntled murmur ran through the group at the table. “We’ve, err, we’ve had to put a ban on all things J-I-T-T-E-R-S related.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s caused a bit of a stir with the gang.”

“That’s an understatement,” Hartley piped up from a few seats further down the table.

“Shawna’s determined that they’re making a joke out of her,” Rosa answered the question in Barry’s eyes.

“Oh, come on!” Shawna immediately defended herself. “Does no one else find it suspicious that they gave the chocolate flavoured drink to the only black girl of the group?”

“Sam’s is chocolate too.”

“Yeah, _white_ chocolate.”

Barry regretted everything which had led up to this moment.

“So, you think it’s wrong that they gave the black girl a dark chocolate coffee, but not that they gave a white guy a white chocolate one?” Sam snarked, looking smug “A little hypocritical of you, don’t you think.”

Shawna looked seconds away from jumping across the table to throttle him, but Mark put his arm on her shoulder to calm her down.

“Shut it, Scudder,” Mark said, and Sam seemed to be having an internal debate over whether or not he could take on Weather Wizard if the occasion called for it. Meanwhile, Roy Bivolo was glaring into his drink and muttering to himself with: “You think that’s bad? I’m colour blind; can’t even _look_ at my drink without getting a migraine.”

“I see what you mean,” Barry said as he watched the mayhem unfurl, turning back to Lisa while the arguments continued at the table. “Does everyone hate their drinks?”

“I like mine,” she said, shrugging. “I mean… it’s salted caramel. Kind of hard to hate that.”

“At least you have a drink of your own,” James Jesse replied to whatever Rosa had been saying. “I have to _share_ mine. Can you believe it? I have never been more insulted in my life.”

“You had to bring up the drinks, didn’t you,” Len sighed as he and Mick appeared by Barry’s side, placing Barry’s coffee down in front of him.

“Are you still pretending that you hate yours too?” Barry asked, and Mick let out a hearty laugh, slapping Barry playfully – yet still strong enough that it winded him for a moment – on the back. Len just glared while taking his seat. “Just so you know, I’m going to take that as a yes,” Barry continued to tease, a little breathless now, and Mick only laughed harder.

“Have I ever told you how much I like you, Kid?” Mick said, and Barry beamed back at him as the guy walked around the table and slumped into his place. To think, a few months ago, Barry would have been wary of Mick Rory, now it was almost like they were friends. Not like how he and Len were friends, though. Barry’s friendship with Len was just… more personal. Probably because Len was the only one of the Rogues who knew all of Barry’s secrets.

Yeah… that had to be why Barry felt so different around Len lately.

But, regardless of what Mick did or did not know about Barry, their friendship was still significant in its own right, and a damn big change too.

“I just don’t understand why they didn’t put me on the list, but they gave a drink to the damn gorilla,” Mark grumbled as the Jitters conversation continued around them, and Barry felt bad as he realised that he hadn’t even noticed Mark’s name wasn’t on the menu until now.

“Calm down, Marky,” Axel said with a wide grin and mischievous set to his eyes. “I’ll take you to Dairy Queen and buy you a Blizzard instead.”

Mark didn’t respond well to the taunting, and Len had to command them to silence with a glare and a growled: “Enough.”

The meeting started after that, and the tensions died down again, continuing on for the rest of the night without – too many – hiccups. And when the time came for Barry to leave, and he went to say goodnight to Len, he’d almost managed to forget about how this night had started off.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we finally have the Rogues’ takes on this whole Jitters competition - I’ll share a secret here, not all of them are as grumpy about it as they seem ;) they just like to complain - but this won’t be the last time we’ll hear from them about it.
> 
> Hopefully, you’re still enjoying this fic! Leave me a comment to let me know your thoughts and theories, and don’t forget that you can still vote for your favourite coffee flavour [here](https://linkto.run/p/QVHMFVL6).


	9. Chapter 9

Len parked his motorbike outside STAR Labs but didn't stand up just yet as he stared out at the building ahead. He’d had a lot to do this morning, jobs which he usually left to Lisa or Mick – like paying a visit to some of their associates, and keeping up his end of the deal with the woman who ran Saints and Sinners – it was grunt work, but Len thought it necessary to show his face today to make sure that no one forgot who they were dealing with. It was important, okay, he was _not_ avoiding visiting STAR Labs, no matter what Lisa had to say about him taking over her duties for the morning. He wasn’t hiding from anything or anyone, least of all Barry Allen.

Noon had come and gone, but Len had been so busy all morning that he hadn’t gotten around to turning his bike in this direction until now. And, that was the reason why he took a few extra seconds before heading inside, okay. Len just needed a moment to sit back and rest before facing whatever task Barry’s team would require of him today. He thought for a second about what was waiting for him inside the lab: Barry wouldn't be there now, he was sure, not mid-day on a Friday. But Cisco and Caitlin were sure to ring the Flash the second that they saw Len in the building. And that was… good.

It was good.

Len was here because of Barry, after all. Here because Barry believed in him, because Barry refused to give up on him, because Len didn’t want to let Barry down. He _cared_ for Barry Allen.

As a friend.

Len’s mind flitted back to the previous night, to how he’d almost-

No. Len stopped that thought dead in its tracks because it was just so preposterous.

Len had been taunting Barry, was all, teasing him because of the whole ‘fake dating’ situation that Barry had got them caught up in. And, afterwards, Len had just got a little wrapped up in it, had pushed it just a little too far. That was all that had happened.

Shaking his head, Len pushed the kickstand out on his bike and stood up. He removed his helmet and secured it under his seat… right next to the spare one which he had leant to Barry last night… But Len reminded himself – _again_ – that all of that had just been a joke.

Then, Len moved towards the building. Unlike the other instances that he’d broken into STAR Labs, this time Len made sure that his entrance was known about, purposefully tripping the alarm on the door and then waving at the camera. He hadn’t even made it all the way to the cortex before he felt static spark at the back of his neck, and Barry was suddenly there, dropping out of superspeed to walk beside him. Len’s heart did _not_ skip at the sight of him, okay. It didn’t. He just had a bit of acid reflux from the burger he’d eaten for lunch.

“You’re late,” Barry said, and Len frowned. They hadn’t actually agreed on a time for him to show up, so it wasn’t exactly possible to be late. But Len didn’t say that.

“I was running errands.”

“Don’t you have lackeys for that?” Barry teased, and Len cracked a smile.

“I find it good practice to show my face every now and again,” Len said, deliberately not mentioning that today had been the first day he’d ever done that; Barry already knew far too much about how he ran his Rogues, he didn’t need to learn this too. “Give my associates a little reminder of who they’re dealing with.”

“Smart,” Barry nodded, grinning. “Scare everyone back into line with that Captain Cold drawl.” Len huffed a short laugh.

“You think I’m scary?” he drawled, layering it on thick alongside one of his signature smirks. He expected Barry to laugh, or roll his eyes, or come back with a witty remark. Instead, Barry’s smile turned softer.

“No,” he said, his voice quiet.

“I’m dangerous,” Len said, feeling the sudden need to defend himself. Barry shook his head.

“Not to me.”

And there was that acid reflux again…

“You’re just asking for it now, Kid,” Len warned. “Maybe _you_ need a reminder of who I am.” It wasn’t a threat, not really; Len didn’t make threats unless he was willing to follow through with them.

“Bring it, _Old Man._ ”

Oh, but Barry was _really_ pushing his luck now. Len was about to say just that, but they were getting closer to the cortex now, and he had to remind himself that he couldn’t act this way in STAR Labs. This wasn’t a Rogues meeting, and Barry’s team wouldn’t take well to him and Barry being all chummy. So, Len let it drop.

For now.

They rounded the corner into the cortex together, and Len straightened his shoulders as Barry’s friends turned to face them from their seats in front of the computers. Barry paused in the doorway, but Len kept on walking further into the room and around the desk until he was standing front and centre. He noticed movement to his left and saw none other than Joe West standing in the side-lab, his eyes glaring Len down through the glass wall which separated them while he talked quietly on the phone. Len quickly dismissed him in favour of looking at Barry and his friends again.

“So,” Len said, slipping back into his drawl again. He noticed the way that Barry’s lips twitched, fighting a smile, in response. “Have you got any news, or did I waste a journey?”

“We have a lead,” Cisco said, and Caitlin nodded beside him.

“Joe,” she said, and the man in question ended his call now and joined them in the cortex, “found out which fence Fries-”

“Freeze,” Cisco interrupted her. “Or, uh, _Mr_ Freeze, actually. That’s his new bad guy alias.”

“That’s a terrible name,” Len drawled, paused, and nodded. “I like it.”

“You would,” Barry teased, and West hung his head in shame.

“Can we please get back on track here?” The detective muttered. “Fries, Freeze, whatever we’re calling him now, tried to sell the paintings he stole to a fence who operates out of an old pawnbrokers by the river, goes by the name Hammond. We’ve had guys tailing him for a while now, but we’ve not had enough evidence to pick him up yet. Until now, that is. We’ve had an APB out on Fries’ car, and the officers staking out the pawnshop called it in a few hours ago.”

“What did Hammond say when you questioned him?” Len asked.

“We haven’t,” West said.

“We don’t want to tip him off about the investigation,” Barry answered, he was still standing by the doorway, behind where Cisco sat. “And, anyway, we thought _Captain Cold_ might get a clearer answer out of the guy than any of us could.”

“Another field trip, then?” Len asked, nodding. “Sounds like fun.”

“Barry will go with you,” West said like he was assigning Len a babysitter – not that Len minded the company; so long as it was Barry, at least.

“You don’t trust me, Detective?”

“Not as far as I can throw you.”

“And here I was thinking we were getting along,” Len said, shaking his head and trying not to laugh at the pleading eyes that Barry sent him. “Fine,” he agreed, “the Flash can tag along too, under one condition,” he continued, pausing dramatically while everyone waited on his answer. Joe looked positively agitated by it. “No comms.”

“Then no deal,” West answered, so quickly that Len wondered whether he’d had that answer prepared and ready to go no matter what Len’s request had been.

“ _Joe_ ,” Barry argued while Cisco and Caitlin shared an uneasy glance.

“Don’t ‘ _Joe_ ’ me,” West replied, folding his arms, “how are we supposed to back you up if we can’t listen in?”

“ _I’ll_ be Barry’s back-up,” Len reminded them. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t appease Joe West any. “Look, I’m not going in there wearing a wire,” Len said rather than continuing his staring contest with the detective. “So, if you want my help, then no comms.”

“It probably would be safer without them,” Caitlin agreed, and West looked mortified by the fact she was taking Len’s side.

“Cisco?” he asked, searching for someone to back him up here. Len glance at the engineer, who was looking very uncomfortable right now.

“I, uh,” Cisco muttered. “I see Snart’s point,” he eventually admitted, and Joe shook his head, muttering ‘ _unbelievable_ ’ under his breath before finally conceding.

“Fine, no comms,” West said, turning to Len. “But if you double-cross us-”

“You’ll send me to Planet of the Apes?” Len finished for him, remembering that threat well from a few days ago.

“If you’re lucky.”

[] [] []

Once the last of the customers left the store, and the sign was flipped to closed, Barry and Len made their way around to the back door, making sure to avoid being seen by the cops staking out the front of the building. Len knelt and took out his pocketknife again, ready to pick the lock. Barry knew that it wouldn’t take Len more than a few seconds to jimmy the door open. Still, he decided that he’d take point on this one instead, reaching for the handle with his gloved hand and using his superspeed to break the lock.

Len looked up at him in surprise, and Barry tried not to smile but secretly enjoyed Len’s shock, enjoyed showing off a little, as he pushed the door open and they snuck inside. Hammond was still locking up the front of the store, so Barry and Len moved into the back office and waited for the owner to show his face, Len sitting in a chair with the cold gun out and charged in his hand, while Barry stood behind him protectively.

It was barely 30 seconds later when Hammond showed up, flinching, his eyes skirting between the two of them, and then darting over to his desk and back. Len tilted his head towards Barry, not taking his eyes off of Hammond as he spoke.

“Go fetch the gun strapped under that desk, would you?” he said, and Barry did as he was told. This was what they’d agreed to, after all, Len was going to do the talking while Barry took a back seat and acted as nothing more than one of his crew.

“You’re Captain Cold,” Hammond said, his voice shaking a little. At the same time, Barry found the handgun under the desk and removed the clip, making sure to empty the chamber too before he placed it back on top the desk.

“Always pleased to meet a fan,” Len drawled.

“Take whatever you want,” the man said, clearly frightened by Leonard Snart suddenly showing up in his shop, and not even attempting to hide it.

“What I want is information,” Len said, standing from his chair and taking a deliberate step closer. Barry hung back behind the desk still, watching carefully and ready to leap into action if he needed to. “Victor Fries,” he drawled, “I hear he came by the shop this morning and tried to sell a couple of paintings.”

“That albino freak?” Hammond asked, and Barry frowned. Ignoring the slur for a moment… Barry knew for a fact that Fries was not albino. The picture they’d gained from the traffic camera was black and white and not the clearest, but the picture from his Mercury Labs bio showed that Fries was a standard white American, with brown eyes and black hair. Barry wondered just how much his powers had changed him. “Yeah, he was here. But I turned him down,” Hammond was quick to say, “those paintings have too much heat on them, they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Which way did he go?” Barry asked, forgetting himself for a moment until Hammond and Len’s eyes both turned his way.

“Who are you?” Hammond demanded, not so timid now that he wasn’t facing off against Captain Cold directly.

“None of your business,” Len responded for Barry. “Answer the question.”

“I gave him the address of another fence in Keystone who might take the paintings off his hands,” Hammond said. “And that’s all I know, I swear.” Len was quiet for a moment, eying the guy who began to fidget under Len’s scrutiny. Eventually, Len nodded, and Hammond gave them the address before they turned and left the store the same way in which they’d come in.

“Well, that was easy,” Barry said as they got out onto the side street again, and Len nodded.

“Perks of being a household name,” he said, still not dropping the drawl even as they moved further and further away from the store. “People don’t tend to question me.”

“I’d say it’s that scary drawl of yours,” Barry teased again, and Len side-eyed him. The warning was clear, but Barry wasn’t buying it. Len wouldn’t hurt him. “So, Keystone?” he asked. Len nodded, so Barry wasted no time in scooping him up and carrying him all the way over to the address that Hammond had given them.

They scoped the place out for a couple of hours to make sure this fence was alone too, and also just in case Hammond called ahead to warn the guy, and they suddenly had criminals questioning how Captain Cold got around so fast…

Barry called his team to fill them in on what they’d learnt while he and Len sat back on a rooftop across the street from the house in question, waiting for the guy to come home while the sun began to set around them.

It was a peaceful afternoon, warm too, with barely a breeze, and so Barry didn’t mind the wait.

“Want to play I-Spy?” he asked, not long after hanging up the call from Joe. Len quirked an eyebrow Barry’s way, and Barry shrugged. “What?” he asked. “It seems like a pretty apt stake-out game to me.”

“I’m not playing I-Spy.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“No.”

“Never Have I Ever?”

“Do I look like a teenage girl to you, Barry?”

“No, but you’re beginning to sound like a grump,” Barry teased. Len shook his head and turned back to the house, a smirk playing on his lips.

“The only game you’ll see me playing is strip poker.”

Oh, God. Not again… Barry had managed to forget about his dilemma yesterday, but then Len had to go and say something like _that_ , and now those pesky thoughts were invading Barry’s brain again.

“I’ve not got any playing cards,” Barry said, trying to keep his voice even. Len huffed a laugh and shook his head, his eyes returning to the house they were supposed to be watching.

“Shame,” Len muttered, and Barry felt his whole body flush a bright red. Why did this keep happening to him? He spent the next few seconds trying and failing to come up with something to say that would take his mind off of _that_. Eventually, Len was the one to break the silence, his voice lacking its usual teasing tone. “Why do you trust me?”

Barry blinked over at his friend for a moment, unsure where this was coming from. Len just waited, leaning forward against the half-wall which stood between them and the edge of the roof, never once looking away from the house they were surveilling.

“What?” Barry eventually asked, ineloquently as ever.

“You're a smart guy,” Len said. “Surely, you realise what a terrible idea it is.” Barry was shaking his head before Len had even finished talking. It was true… Len had given Barry plenty of reasons not to trust him over the years, but there was more to it than that.

“You're not so bad,” Barry eventually said.

“You take that back,” Len said, side-eying him until Barry laughed. He shook his head and moved to lean against the wall in front of them, mirroring Len’s stance.

“I mean it,” Barry said. “You’re a bit of an ass sometimes, sure. But you’re not so bad. You care a lot more than you like to let on.” Barry thought then about the time that Lewis had ‘ _shot_ ’ him; he’d had to play dead, but he’d heard Len’s apology… Len hadn’t wanted Barry there, to get involved, to get hurt. And that, although certainly not the first clue to there being a good man underneath all of that snark, certainly sent it home for Barry.

Barry wanted to bring that up now, but he didn’t know how and didn’t think that Len would take too kindly to it either.

“I’ve hurt the people you care about. Hurt _you_.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Barry shrugged, trying to find the lighter side of things because he just couldn’t quite find the words to tell Len exactly what he meant. It wasn’t like Barry had just forgotten everything that Len had done, but they’d moved past that now. The wounds were already healed.

“Says the Flash,” Len muttered, and Barry laughed humourlessly, turning his head to look at Len again.

“Trust me, I’ve done things I’m not proud of too,” he admitted, “and I’ve hurt a lot of people in the process.”

“I’m sure you’ve more than made up for anything you did,” Len said, and Barry nodded though he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself.

“So, it would be hypocritical of me not to give you the same chance,” Barry said. “And, anyway, you’re a good guy and a good friend. You deserve my trust.” Len didn’t say anything after that, so Barry turned back to look out at the city in front of them. It was a cloudless evening, and the edges of the blue sky were tinged with a soft pink hue as the sun continued to set. Barry’s eyes skimmed the horizon and caught on a pizzeria a few blocks away, his stomach beginning to grumble at the thought of food. Len dug a candy bar out of his parka and offered it over, but Barry shook his head – still not quite over the fact that Captain Cold apparently carried candy around in his pocket like a Grandma, but choosing not to bring it up. “I was thinking pizza,” Barry said, nodding his head over to the pizzeria in question. “You in?”

“Why not,” Len agreed, and Barry zipped over to place his order.

Ten minutes later, and he was back on the rooftop again, four boxes all with different toppings surrounding them as the conversation turned to lighter topics.

“I can’t believe you have olives on your pizza,” Len muttered in distaste, but still took a slice of it anyway. Barry pulled that box back to himself protectively. “What?” Len asked when he swallowed his first bite, smirking. “Barry doesn’t share food?”

“You’re such a dork,” Barry laughed, shaking his head at the reference and batting Len’s hand away as he went in for a 2nd slice of the pizza that he was apparently so disgusted by.

“And you’re a bad date.”

“If you don’t like it, eat your own,” Barry said. Len just laughed and tugged the box closer again.

“But I’d rather eat yours.” Barry rolled his eyes and let Len open the box of his pepperoni, olive, and jalapeno pizza. Len didn’t grab another slice though and instead reached for the three-cheese box, leaving Barry to happily devour the rest of his favourite pizza in peace.

A couple of hours passed, and the sky had gone dark, the pizzas long since finished off when Len eventually suggested they break into the house that they were staking-out since the owner didn’t look like he was going to show. Barry agreed, texting his team the plan before standing up straight again. He looped his arm around Len and ran over to the building, stopping in an alleyway and making the rest of the short journey at a regular human pace.

The first thing that Barry noticed once Len had picked the lock was that it was surprisingly cool inside, despite the warm weather they’d had today. Len seemed to notice that too, taking his cold gun out and charging it. Barry had left his Flash suit in STAR Labs, and he couldn’t risk using his powers if there was someone else in the building, so he let Len take the lead as they silently checked the rooms one at a time, starting with the living room, then the dining room; both were clear but looked as though they’d been ransacked recently.

The further they got into the house, the colder the air around them became until they were standing outside the kitchen door.

Len had his gun ready and aimed. He looked to Barry and tilted his head to the door, indicating for Barry to open it and step back. Barry did just that, keeping his face out of sight of anyone who might be inside but prepared to spring into action to swoop Len out of there if needed.

Len strode into the room and then stopped. Barry peered inside after him, only to find a dead body at the kitchen table, covered head to toe in solid ice. In fact, most of the room looked to be in much the same condition, including the three stolen paintings stuck to the kitchen table, destroyed.

“I guess this lead just ran cold,” Len muttered, lowering his weapon. Barry glared at him. “What?” Len shrugged. “Too soon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, y’all thought Len was actually going to be any less in-denial about his feelings than Barry is? Psh, not out Lenny!
> 
> PS. I… may have extended the chapter count again…


	10. Chapter 10

Joe was pacing a hole into the cortex floor as they waited for word from Barry, and it was giving Cisco a headache. He wished that Barry would just call again so that Joe would sit down… But the last they’d heard from the Flash’s latest undercover mission with Captain Cold, Barry and Snart had been about to break into the house in Keystone and look for any clues to Mr Freeze’s whereabouts.

That had been 15 minutes ago.

Admittedly, Cisco could understand why Joe was so worried – even Cisco was beginning to get a bit anxious with this wait – because they weren’t used to Barry doing anything offline. They were always in his ear, always tuned into the situation. But tonight was different. Without any comms, and without any Flash suit, they had no way of knowing what was going on. And to top it all off, Barry wasn’t there alone. Joe didn’t trust Leonard Snart; hell, Cisco didn’t either, but at least Cisco knew the truth about what was going on between Snart and Barry. He knew that Snart had as good a reason as anyone to keep Barry safe, to not double-cross them.

Because Snart was Barry’s… _boyfriend_.

God, it was just as strange a concept now as it had been when Cisco had first found out about it. But, slowly, he was beginning to get used to the idea of Snart and Barry now. He had absolutely no idea how all of this had started – and he was really going to have to ask Barry for some clarification on that one once he got the chance – but, now that they were already together, they seemed happy. Somehow, they seemed to fit. They were like peanut butter and jelly, milkshakes and fries, chilli and chocolate… two things which logically made no sense, but which worked well together regardless.

Or so Cisco hoped, anyway, because he _really_ didn’t want to have to go threaten Captain Cold for breaking Barry’s heart and end up getting his ass kicked because of it…

Cisco managed to dislodge that thought, for now, trying his best not to worry about his friend’s love life. Barry was a grown man; he could make his own decisions and – if it came to that – he could make his own mistakes too. Unfortunately, it seemed that Joe was also beginning to figure that one out for himself… not about the Barry and Snart situation! No, Joe still seemed in the dark about that, and Cisco hoped it would stay that way for the time being, because there was no way _that_ particular bombshell was going to be anything but a disaster for everyone involved.

But, no, Joe seemed to be coming to the realisation that he couldn’t prevent Barry from making his own mistakes where Flash business was concerned. Sure, Barry had gone against Joe’s advice before, but this – working alongside a criminal, trusting Snart so explicitly – was different. This wasn’t just a case of Barry ignoring Joe’s warnings, it was actively going against everything that Joe had ever tried to teach him.

Joe didn’t know about Barry and Snart. Yet. But he wasn’t an idiot, and he had to have realised that there was more going on in this situation than Barry was telling them. Cisco could practically see the gears turning in his head, and it made Cisco’s stomach flip uneasily. The longer it went on for, the longer Joe was left alone inside his own head with worry, the sicker Cisco felt.

Luckily, it was only seconds later when Barry whooshed back into the lab with Snart by his side. Neither of them looked very pleased with whatever they’d found.

“Anything?” Joe asked, _finally_ stilling now.

“The guy in Keystone,” Barry said, shaking his head, “he’s dead.”

“What? How?” Caitlin asked.

“Let’s just say he’s looking a little frosty,” Snart drawled, stepping away from Barry and taking a seat by one of the desks at the side of the lab.

“Fries’ handiwork?” Joe asked Barry. “Or _his_?” he said, tilting his chin towards Snart and glowering his way. Barry sighed.

“It was Fries,” he answered. “From the looks of it, this fence turned him down too, and he lost control, killed the guy and destroyed three of the stolen paintings in the process – if not more. I did a once-over of the place, but I couldn’t find anything that might help us track him down, so the Flash left an anonymous tip for Keystone police, and we came back here.”

“And now we’re back to square one,” Caitlin sighed, looking disappointed.

“Yep,” Snart said, popping the p and gaining everyone’s attention. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if our timeframe just got shortened.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked, and Snart shrugged – a quick and dramatic movement that somehow managed to look wry. It only served to make Joe grind his teeth.

“Seems to me like this _Mr Freeze_ is desperate for some cold cash,” Snart continued. “But no one’s biting, and he just lost half his merchandise.”

“So, he’s going to need to hit somewhere else again,” Cisco finished, and Snart nodded.

“Soon.”

“Maybe we’ll be able to catch him in the act next time,” Caitlin said, sounding hopeful. Cisco turned back to his computer and began typing away.

“We’ll keep a close eye on the police scanners for both here and Keystone,” he added, and Barry nodded his thanks.

“Are you two done for the night?” Joe asked, turning back to Barry now. “No more sneaking around the Gem Cities? Because it sounds like I’m gonna have an early-morning call and a crime scene in Keystone to deal with tomorrow.”

“Go, get some rest,” Barry said. “We’re good here.” Joe didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded and left anyway, giving Snart one last glare on his way out of the door. Cisco could only hope that seeing Barry back in the lab again without so much as a scratch will have satisfied Joe’s worries enough that he might just give the whole ‘Barry/Snart’ contemplation a rest for the night.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Cisco’s part.

“So, what’s our next step?” Snart asked once Joe was out of sight. And, maybe it was Cisco’s imagination, or maybe he was only realising it because he was now in-the-know about Barry’s relationship, but it seemed as though Snart became less tense all of a sudden now that Joe had left. It was almost humbling to see that even Leonard Snart got anxious around his boyfriend’s father figure, and Cisco _so_ wished that he could have made a joke about that, but with Caitlin here he would have to keep his mouth zipped.

"First, I’m going to need a coffee," Barry declared, sharing a look with Snart which dragged out for just a moment too long to be considered casual. It was like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. But - with the way that Snart was smirking, and the way which Barry appeared to try and fail to keep the big grin off of his face - Cisco didn’t care to know what they were thinking about. He decided right then that he could happily live the rest of his life without ever finding out what _'coffee'_ was code for.

Cisco cleared his throat to remind them that Caitlin was still in the room and still blessedly in the dark about their relationship, _so would they just. Stop. Flirting!_ Barry looked appropriately guilty, at least, but given Cisco’s experience over the past few days, he was sure that Barry would forget himself again any minute now.

That boy _really_ needed to get his sex drive under control.

“Well, I’m taking another crack at hacking into Freeze’s bank account,” Cisco told them, hoping to break the tension in the air, and Caitlin sighed beside him.

“Would you just-”

“I don’t need to ask Felicity for help,” he said, quickly interrupting her. “I’m close; I can feel it.”

“Whatever you say,” Caitlin muttered under her breath, to which Cisco was not in the mood for and showed it by glaring at his friend in response.

“That’s great,” Barry nodded, “let me know if you find anything; I’m going to brew us some coffees.” Barry then turned to Snart with a playful smile on his face, and Cisco felt like rolling his eyes at Barry’s repeated refusal to stop flirting with his so-called enemy. “I’m assuming you want the sugariest drink I can make.”

“Then I’m going to assume you enjoy having hot coffee poured down your shirt,” Snart threatened. However, Barry clearly didn’t mind or take him seriously.

“I have other shirts,” he said, and Snart narrowed his eyes, getting up and following Barry wordlessly from the cortex. Cisco just hoped that, once they had finished doing whatever it was they were leaving to do, they would at least remember to bring back some actual coffees so that Caitlin didn’t get too suspicious. Though, knowing Barry Allen, Cisco suspected he might just forget all about it. He also suspected that he wouldn’t be seeing that shirt of Barry’s again anytime soon, but he didn’t want to think much into why that would be.

Turning back to his computer once more, Cisco subtly glanced at the other monitors in the room to make sure none of them were displaying any of the lab’s CCTV footage, and then he got back to work.

Surprisingly, it was only five minutes later when Cisco succeeded in his latest hacking endeavour, gaining access to all of Freeze’s bank accounts.

“ _Yatta_!” Cisco shouted, grinning and raising his hands high in a moment of celebration. Caitlin just frowned at him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, and Cisco sighed.

“Hiro Nakamura,” he prompted, but she just frowned further, and so Cisco shook his head and let the reference slip away. “It doesn’t matter,” he brushed off, “I hacked into Fries’ bank.”

“Anything useful?” she asked, pushing her seat a little closer to his so that she could see his monitor better.

“Maybe…” Cisco said, skimming through Fries’ account. The guy was _seriously_ overdrawn, and there were a few regular payments that looked as though they’d been bounced, the bank not allowing him to take any more out until he paid what he already owed. Cisco checked the reference for some of the payments and frowned… it sounded familiar. A quick google search of the company name confirmed his suspicions.

“He has a storage unit?” Caitlin asked, sounding excited at their breakthrough. “Where?”

“Can’t say, exactly,” Cisco said while he found the locations list on their website. “Not yet. They’re a big company with six different lock-ups in Central City alone. But it has to be one hell of a unit, considering how much they’re charging him.” Cisco continued scrolling through the website, doing his best to narrow down the search.

“Still, that’s pretty big news. I’ll go tell Barry.”

“Right,” Cisco muttered, so absorbed in what he was reading that it took him a moment to process what Caitlin had said. But when she stood up, Cisco tensed. Because Barry… Barry was with Leonard Snart right now, and who knew what they were getting up to. “Actually, I’ve got it!” Cisco said, scrambling to his feet and stepping in between Caitlin and the exit while inwardly cursing Barry for being such a goddamn fool. They’d had all afternoon together, why couldn’t they have got it on _then_ instead?

Unless they had, and this was round two. Or three, or…

No, actually, Cisco _really_ didn’t want to think about it. All that mattered right now was that Barry was an idiot, and Cisco was going to have to cover for him. Again.

But Caitlin wasn’t going to make it easy for him

“Uh, no, I really think I should do this,” she was quick to say, attempting to side-step around him, but Cisco moved into her path again. He might not necessarily approve of Barry’s dirty little secret, but he would be dammed if he wasn’t going to do his very best to keep it from blowing up in their faces.

“But you do so much around here!” Cisco protested. He recognised that his voice was becoming a tad high-pitched and made his best attempt to lower it back down again as he continued. “You know, you could do with a rest. I’ll tell Barry about the storage unit.”

“No, really, it’s fine. You should keep digging!” Caitlin said happily, patting him on the shoulder, and Cisco inwardly cursed. Why was she making this so difficult? “You might be able to narrow down the search.”

“But my eyes are hurting. Yeah, I could really do with a break from the computer for a few minutes, go stretch my legs and all that.”

“Well, the treadmill’s free,” Caitlin offered, and Cisco didn’t need to fake his aversion to that idea, scowling as though the thought alone left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Do you really think I’m going to use that death trap?”

“Barry uses it just fine.”

“At Mach 13!”

“It works well at 10mph too,” she continued, nodding and stepping around Cisco again, getting closer and closer to the doorway. “Why don’t you go test that out, and I’ll just-”

“Wait, stop!” Cisco finally said – well, more like shouted – and Caitlin froze in the doorway, frowning at him. Yeah, he’d definitely fucked up there. But Caitlin really wasn’t going to take no for an answer here, and Cisco _needed_ her to. Sighing, he took a step closer and lowered his voice again. “I’m being serious, Caitlin. Let me take this to Barry,” he pleaded. “It’s important.”

“Important?” she asked, sounding… sceptical, perhaps?

“Yeah,” Cisco sighed, his shoulders slumping forward as his energy drained away, just hoping that his friend would stop fighting this, because he _really_ didn’t want to make up some sort of excuse, and he _definitely_ didn’t want to tell Caitlin the truth.

“Do you... know things?” Caitlin asked slowly, and Cisco frowned, standing up straighter once again. He thought a little closer about how Caitlin had been acting, so insistent that she be the one to give Barry this new lead…

It was almost as though she knew full well what she was walking in on, and wanted to keep Cisco from uncovering it for himself.

But that was crazy!

Right?

“I know _some_ things,” Cisco said, cautiously hedging out the answer. “To what are you referring?”

“Something… about who Barry has been dating lately,” Caitlin said as though she was testing him, and Cisco’s eyes went wide, because _holy shit!_

She knew!

“You know!” Cisco accused.

“I know.”

“It’s _Captain Cold_!”

“I know!”

“ _How_ do you know?”

“I…” Caitlin paused, looking momentarily down at the floor as though embarrassed of what she was about to say. “Remember when you told us about that bar Barry was hanging out at?” she asked, and Cisco got a bad feeling about where this was heading. “I might have swung by on my way home that night, and I may have seen Snart leaving.”

“ _Caitlin_!”

“Cisco!”

“What are you reprimanding _me_ for?” he demanded, and Caitlin shook her head, sighing.

“I... don’t know,” she admitted, looking guilty. But that look quickly turned sad. “I can’t believe Barry told you about his relationship but not me.”

“Oh, he didn’t,” Cisco said, shaking his head. “Barry and Snart were flirting it up and talking about their Thursday night dates yesterday morning, and I overheard.” Thinking about it, Cisco was surprised that more people hadn’t put together who Barry was dating yet… The more time Snart spent here working with the team, the less they seemed to remember that they _shouldn’t_ be flirting in front of everyone. “They’re really terrible at keeping this thing a secret.”

“You’re not kidding,” Caitlin laughed. “They’re going to give Joe an aneurism if they keep on like this.” Cisco nodded his agreement there and moved to sit back down behind his computer, less eager to go find Barry and Snart now that he knew Caitlin was already in-the-know. Caitlin didn’t move to sit, though; but she also didn’t make to leave and find Barry. Instead, she just hovered in the doorway, looking uncertain.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worried that his friend was maybe not as okay with this whole Barry-Snart love connection as he’d thought. Caitlin nodded and shrugged, making Cisco frown further.

“Yeah; it’s just… Barry doesn’t know that I know,” she admitted. “I wanted to tell him, but I was too ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing away from Cisco for a moment to look down the hallway. Caitlin stopped speaking suddenly then, and that was when Cisco heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He figured it was Barry and Snart returning from wherever they’d been hiding for the past ten minutes, but then Caitlin gave a little wave to the newcomer before quickly stepping closer to Cisco, a tense smile on her face. “Ronnie still doesn’t know,” she said, her voice quiet enough that Cisco had to strain to hear her.

A few seconds later, and the man in question rounded the corner, greeting his wife with a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, sounding a little nervous. Cisco wanted to wince at that. Usually, Caitlin was the level-headed one of the group, but Cisco supposed there was a big difference between keeping calm in an emergency and lying to your husband. He felt bad for her when he thought about it like that.

“Can’t a guy visit his wife at work?” Ronnie asked; his tone was playful, but he looked concerned. It wasn’t like tonight was the first time that Ronnie had ever decided to drop in to hang out with the team. Though he and Stein didn’t often get involved with Flash business, Caitlin still spent a lot of her time in the labs and so Ronnie stopped by more often than not on a Friday and Saturday night, or whenever he knew that he wouldn’t have to go into work the next morning – Lyla having pulled a few strings and got him a structural engineering job at ARGUS a few months back.

“Yeah, of course, it’s just… Snart’s here,” Caitlin said, and Ronnie frowned, glancing from Cait to Cisco and back again. He’d yet to deal with Snart, and so it took him a moment to place the name but, once he did, his brow began to furrow.

“Captain Cold?” he asked, and they both nodded.

“He’s helping out with a case,” Cisco said.

“So, if you don’t want to stick around tonight…” Caitlin began to say, but Ronnie just shook his head, more determined than ever to be here now that he knew what was going on. Or, _half_ of what was going on, at least. It was only a couple of seconds later that Barry’s laughter echoed down the hall. Cisco _did_ roll his eyes this time.

Barry and Snart came into view not long later – surprisingly, with Barry’s shirt still intact – and Barry gave Ronnie a welcoming smile, patting him on the shoulder after handing Caitlin her coffee.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were stopping by tonight,” he greeted, still smiling even after Ronnie’s eyes moved from Barry’s face to Cold’s.

“Ah, Firestorm,” Snart drawled in his own version of a greeting. Though he barely even glanced Ronnie’s way as he strolled into the cortex. “Mick will be devastated that he missed this; he’s a big fan of the way you turn into a giant flame and light things on fire.” He placed a mug down in front of Cisco, and Cisco sniffed at its contents suspiciously. It sure _smelt_ like coffee but - despite how hard he was trying to be supportive of Barry’s newest relationship - Cisco still wasn’t too trusting of Leonard Snart just yet and wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to drink anything that the man handed him. “On second thought,” Snart continued, perching himself on top of a nearby desk and shrugging dramatically, “perhaps it’s a good thing Mick isn’t here now.”

“Wouldn’t want to ruin his stoic reputation,” Barry laughed, leaving Cisco to wonder how his friend was able to joke around about _Heatwave_ of all people, and coming to the startling realisation that Mick Rory and Barry had somehow become friends since Barry started dating Snart.

That was…

Cisco took a gulp of his coffee then, not even bothering to blow on it in an attempt to cool it down, and no longer caring if Snart had somehow spiked it, because who cared if he went into some kind of state of hallucination when _anything_ would make more sense than the reality that Cisco was currently living in.

“Precisely,” Snart said, nodding his head.

“We found a new lead,” Caitlin said, changing the topic and catching everyone up to speed on what Cisco had uncovered. The mood in the lab got more serious again then, and Barry took a seat next to a computer to help the search for Freeze’s lock-up go a little faster.

Unfortunately, they didn’t find anything helpful over the next hour of research. Still, Barry and Snart _did_ manage not to out themselves in front of Ronnie, so Cisco was calling this a win anyway. The streets were surprisingly quiet for a Friday night, and Barry only ended up running out to stop a crime a couple of times, and it was never for anything big. So, once they hit that wall, they ended up just calling it a night and going home.

[] [] []

The next morning was when it all went down. Barry was at work, putting in some extra hours on a Saturday to cover the time he’d had off mid-week, and so he heard about the situation first-hand. He was in the bullpen, dropping off some test results at an officer’s desk, when Singh burst out of his office with the news.

“We’ve got a hostage situation at Central City bank,” he announced to the precinct before turning to Barry. “Allen, is Joe back from Keystone?”

“Yeah, he’s home,” Barry said, having spoken to his foster father only an hour earlier to get the rundown on anything he’d found at the crime scene; as expected, there was nothing new to go on.

Singh gave one swift nod. “Good. Get him on the phone. From the sounds of it, we’re either dealing with Snart or that new meta from the art gallery.” Barry gave an affirmative and did just that as he retreated back up to his lab, right after he sent Len a quick text to discover who they were actually dealing with here. He was mid-explanation to Joe when he got the reply from Len, and Barry took the phone momentarily away from his face to read the text.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_12:42pm_**  
 **Not me this time. I’m at home, ready when you are.**

“It’s definitely Fries,” Barry confirmed, putting the phone back up against his ear. He heard the sound of a siren on the other end of the line, confirming that Joe was already on-route.

“How are you so sure?”

“I asked Len-ard,” Barry said, stumbling over Len’s name but feeling pretty proud of himself for the catch… Right up until his foster father went deathly silent. “Joe?” Barry asked, nervous.

“Please, tell me you don’t have that criminal’s phone number, Barry,” he said, and Barry’s heart leapt up into his throat. his lack of an answer was enough for Joe, though. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said, not sounding in any way, shape, or form happy. Barry nodded, just about managing to get out a high-pitched ‘ _okay_ ’ before he hung up. He let out an unsteady breath and prepared himself, running out of the precinct and stopping in the cortex at STAR Labs just long enough to get dressed into the Flash suit and fill his team in on the situation before he took off again.

Barry ran directly to Len’s house and into his front living room. Len was already dressed in his parka with his goggles hung around his neck and his cold gun strapped to his thigh, pacing the room when Barry arrived.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he drawled, and Barry didn’t waste any more time before he scooped Len up and ran them to the bank. He stopped just outside, out of sight of everyone – including Joe and the others cops – so that they could come up with a plan of action.

“- _We’ve hacked into the bank’s CCTV_ -” Cisco said through the comms in Barry’s suit. “- _The hostages are in the front, Mr Freeze is in the safe at the back. It doesn’t look like he’s working with anyone, but all of the windows and doors are iced shut so no one can escape_ -”

“How many hostages are we talking here?” Len asked, and it was only then that Barry saw he was wearing an earpiece, the same one he’d worn – and apparently pocketed – the other day when they’d been out looking for evidence around the art museum.

“- _Eight_ -” Caitlin answered. “- _The security guard, two male cashiers, a man, two women, and a child_ -” That, more than anything, seemed to make Len angry. Barry put his hand on his friend’s arm in an attempt to soothe him.

“Does the guard still have his gun?” Barry asked.

“- _No_ -” Cisco said. “- _Freeze knocked him out and destroyed it. He’s awake again now, though, and doesn’t look too injured_ -” Barry nodded to himself; that was good. One less gun in the equation was always a good thing. In Barry’s experience, guards didn’t always show the best judgement when it came down to these kinds of situations, and Barry would rather no one got caught in the crossfire – like Len, for example. Captain Cold wasn’t exactly known in Central for his heroics, and Barry didn’t want to risk anyone with a weapon getting the wrong idea about why he was here.

“- _I don’t think the cold gun will be very effective against this guy_ -” Caitlin warned, and Len nodded.

“I’ll use it to distract him,” he said, turning to Barry. “But there’s not much space in the safe for a fight. I’ll have to lead him out into the open, you get the hostages out of there before I do.”

“Deal,” Barry agreed. Neither Cisco nor Cait had any objections to the plan, so Barry zipped them both into the bank. It was relatively small, and Barry could see into the safe at the back, see Victor Fries hunched over a safety deposit box, his back to the room. His hair was a shocking bright white which caught Barry momentarily off-guard.

Silently, Len headed towards the back while Barry began to take hostages out one at a time, starting with the little girl and then her mother. He could have done it faster if all of the exits weren’t iced over, but now Barry had to phase each person out individually. He deposited them all behind the crime scene tape that the police had set up, seeing that Eddie had arrived on the scene now too and was helping the hostages towards the EMTs on call while Barry darted back in and out of the bank.

By the time that Barry got to the last hostage, Len was running into the room and taking cover behind a desk as a blast of light and ice tracked his movements. Barry hesitated before running the last hostage out of there; he wanted to help his friend, but he had to trust that Len would be okay without him for just a few more seconds.

When Barry got back into the bank this time, Freeze was storming into the room, and Barry got his first good look at the meta, realising why that fence they’d interrogated yesterday had thought Fries had albinism; it wasn’t just his hair that was paper-white, but his skin too, and his eyes were such a pale blue that they were nearly translucent. Fries noticed him and let out a grunt of frustration, the only warning that Barry got before he had to dodge a blast of cold energy sent his way. He took cover momentarily behind a desk as he tried to think of his next move, that was when he felt the temperature in the bank drop drastically. Enough that it seemed to seep into Barry’s bones and slow him down.

“- _You hanging in there, Flash_?-” Len asked through the comms, his voice soft and low. Barry looked over at where Len was hiding behind a desk of his own at the other side of the room, just barely in Barry’s line of sight, and he gave a shaky nod. He started vibrating his body, trying to keep himself warm, warm enough that he wouldn’t lose too much of his speed.

Len looked back towards Freeze and jumped out from behind his desk, shooting his cold gun at the meta, and Barry cursed under his breath as he raced to grab Len and pull him out of the way while Freeze sent a counter-attack.

Barry didn’t think he was going to make it in time, the cold radiating through the bank slowing him down too much as he watched Freeze’s blast of cold energy hurtling towards his friend, the gap between it and Len closing quicker than the gap between Len and Barry was.

Len was trying to dive out of the path of the blast, but Barry could see it wasn’t going to work.

Barry pushed harder, faster. He reached out and grabbed Len by the collar of his parka, pulling him out of the way at the very, _very_ , last nanosecond. The blast of energy so close to Len’s leg that Barry _almost_ thought it had hit.

Not wanting to lose the momentum that had taken him far too long to build, Barry didn’t so much as pause as he dropped Len – rather unceremoniously, sure, but it was Len’s own fault for being so rash in the first place – on the floor, circling back around to put the meta-dampening cuffs on Mr Freeze’s wrists.

Once locked into place, the bank instantly began to warm up again, and the ice at the back of Barry’s throat began to melt.

Until he looked over at Len, seeing the frost spread across his friend’s thigh and the pain twisted on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, cliff-hanger. Honestly, this fic is getting a lot more plot-heavy than I expected it to.  
> Another thing I didn't expect? For this fic to become so thoroughly based around coffee ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't even _like_ coffee. How did this happen?


	11. Chapter 11

“Len…”

Barry froze, hesitating and unsure of himself. He’d thought… He’d thought that Fries had missed. He’d thought that he’d gotten to Len in time.

But he was wrong.

“Let go of me!” Fries shouted, squirming in front of Barry and trying to get free. “You have no idea what you’ve done.” Barry didn’t care for his words, didn’t even really process them. All he could see, all he could hear, all he could think about, was the ice settling into Len’s leg and the sharp gasps for air his friend made as he tried not to cry out in pain. Len was trying to sit up, to get a look at the damage, but he was clearly struggling to so much as push himself up onto his elbows.

“- _Barry? What’s wrong?_ -” Cisco’s voice said through the comms in the Flash suit, and it made Barry snap back into action.

“Snart’s been hit,” he said, the words scratching his throat as they came out, sharp and painful. “His leg…”

He couldn’t finish that sentence, but he didn’t have to. Caitlin was soon jumping in, ordering Barry to bring Len back to STAR Labs. To the hydrotherapy room which they’d set up last year for Barry’s recovery after Zoom had broken his back.

Barry didn’t hesitate any longer before slipping into superspeed once again, barging the door to the bank open to break the ice that still sealed it shut – no longer caring about the damage he caused, and no longer needing to keep quiet so as to not alert their opponent about the Flash’s whereabouts.

Outside, Barry scooped up both Joe and Eddie, swinging back around to deposit them into the bank next to Fries. He paused by Len’s side only momentarily, wanting to be more careful with his injured friend. Len was still trying to sit up, gritting his teeth as though doing his best not to make a sound. Barry could hear Fries shouting in the background as Eddie read him his rights, and he had no doubt that Joe’s eyes were on him, but none of that mattered right then as he placed his hand on Len’s shoulder, but his friend flinched away from his touch.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Barry said, not quite sure whether he was talking to Len or to himself; he shuffled closer still as he spoke, ducking his head so that he was directly in his friend’s line of sight. Len blinked back at Barry before slumping down onto the floor. He didn’t flinch away this time as Barry picked him up and carried him back to STAR Labs.

Cisco and Caitlin were waiting for them when he slowed to a stop inside the lab. But the moment that he placed Len’s feet back on the floor, Len nearly crumbled to the ground and Barry had to carry his weight some more, Len looking as though he was only seconds away from emptying his stomach onto the floor.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” Barry continued to say like a mantra. He rested Len down on a bench and pulled his cowl from his face as he looked to Caitlin for help.

“Leonard, are you allergic to any medication?” she asked, stepping forward while brandishing a needle. Len only grunted in response. Barry placed his hand on Len’s arm, wishing he could do something – anything – to help, but Len barely seemed to even register the touch. “I need a yes or no there.” Len opened his mouth to speak, but it was a few seconds before any sound came out.

“No,” he finally said, his voice ragged and pained. Cait nodded, and Barry helped her to remove Len’s parka and tug the sleeve of his shirt all the way up to his shoulder.

“I’m giving you morphine now, and we’ll prepare an IV line later to hook you up to some antibiotics,” Cait said while she readied his injection. Len tensed as she administered it, but he made no move to stop her or pull away, so they took that as his agreement. “I need to take a look at the affected area and start the rewarming process,” Cait said to Barry. She looked pointedly over to where Cisco was filling up a tub with water, and then back to Len again. “But these jeans are going to get in the way.”

Barry nodded before he quickly zipped away to grab a pair of sharp scissors. Barry was back by Len’s side again within a second. But then he hesitated, a vague memory of a joke Len had once made many weeks ago about how he liked to go commando flicking to the forefront of Barry’s mind.

“Just…” Barry muttered to himself, grabbing a spare bed sheet and placing it over Len’s lap. Then he moved to cut down the side of the jeans, along the seam, rather than the front of the jeans where he’d been prepared to cut only a few seconds earlier.

“If you wanted to get me out of my pants, Barry,” Len said, though it was nothing like his usual drawl that Barry had come so accustomed to. His voice was strained and tight, but at least he was speaking again, so Barry took that as a good sign. “All you had to do was ask.” Barry laughed at that, aware of how shaky it sounded coming out but not being able to help it. Of course, Len wouldn’t let an opportunity to tease him pass by, crippling pain or not. Barry felt a little calmer now as he began to cut down the length of Len’s thigh. The jeans weren’t quite skin-tight, and so Barry managed to pull them away from Len’s body as he cut downwards, careful not to accidentally slice into Len’s thigh, and seeing instantly that he’d made the right call about the bed sheet as Len was undoubtedly not wearing anything under his clothes.

Len kept still as a rock under his hands, though Barry noticed the muscle of his thigh twitching, flinching unconsciously at Barry’s touch the closer he got to his wound. Barry's fingers grazed against Len’s thigh as he cut the jeans open, and his anxiety surged higher as he felt the cold emanating off of Len’s skin even through the material of his Flash suit.

The area of the injury itself was impossibly white and tinged blue in the centre, a little bigger than the size of Barry’s hand, but he didn’t get a proper look at it before Caitlin was nudging him out of the way. Barry took a step back and hovered for a moment before moving around to Len’s other side while Caitlin worked.

Len’s eyes were trained on her as she gently pressed against the frostbite on his thigh. His hand was balled into a fist against the bedsheet on his lap, holding on so tight that his knuckles turned pale in an attempt to not outwardly react.

Barry placed his hand on Len’s shoulder, trying to soothe him, and Len’s eyes shot to Barry’s face. But only for a second before he let out a surprised and pained hiss when Caitlin continued to prod at his injured leg.

“It appears mostly superficial. Minimal muscle damage,” she said, standing up straight again and tugging the bedsheet fully over Len’s leg now that she was done. “You’re lucky Fries only grazed you, it could have been a lot worse.”

“The water’s ready,” Cisco said then, handing Barry a spare pair of STAR Labs sweats for Len to change into. “We’ll, err… give you two some privacy,” he said awkwardly, and Barry realised that he’d just been nominated to help Len get dressed as Cisco and Caitlin both quickly left the room. Barry supposed it made sense: Len could barely even hold up his own weight – and even if he could, he probably shouldn’t be putting that much pressure onto his injured leg – also, Barry was a speedster, so it would probably be easier and less embarrassing for the both of them than if someone did it at a regular human speed.

Plus, Len was _Barry’s_ friend, not Caitlin or Cisco’s. Barry had been the one to bring Len into this whole fight in the first place, and he’d been the one who let Len got hurt. It was his fault, his responsibility to put things right. Barry looked down at the sweatpants in his hands, and then back up at Len, who was shaking his head as he put together what needed to be done.

“I’m fine,” he objected, but his voice was a little breathless, and he was swaying slightly in his seat. Barry wasn’t buying it.

“You’re hurt,” he corrected. Len didn’t argue any further, and that was actually a little worrying in itself. Barry looked down at the sweatpants in his hands again; they were full-length, and so Barry tore at them to make them shorter, more the size of boxers, so that there would be nothing between Len’s injury and the warm water.

“Show-off,” Len huffed, and Barry smiled at him, feeling a little uncomfortable about what he was about to do.

“I’m just going to…” Barry didn’t know how to finish that sentence without it being awkward, and so he just let it drift off into silence. Len gave his nod of permission though, and so Barry figured it would be less awkward if he just got it over and done with. He helped Len to his feet and then used his superspeed to remove Len’s jeans and put the newly cut-off sweats on in their place – all too aware that, for a moment there, Len was completely naked from the waist down.

Barry didn’t want to look.

He _didn’t_.

He was… okay, maybe he was just a tad curious about what Len looked like, but that… that was normal, you know, it didn’t mean anything. And Barry certainly wasn’t going to _act_ on it.

Or…

He didn’t _mean_ to act on it.

But, well, it was surprisingly hard to dress someone without actually looking at where your hands were going. And, Barry reasoned with himself, what would be the worse outcome here? To unintentionally sneak a peek would be one thing, but it was a hell of a lot better than if he’d accidentally touched…

Yeah, Barry was trying his very best not to think about that.

And when Len gave a short gasp of pain as he righted himself, staggering and nearly falling back against the bench once more, all thoughts of what Len had looked like naked were officially pushed to the back of Barry’s mind in favour of his concern for his friend. Barry inwardly cursed himself for being so reckless with Len, for not realising until now what kind of effect his superspeed would have on someone who looked to be barely managing to keep it all together as it was.

Barry supported Len’s weight as he led him away from the bench and into the tub that Cisco had prepared. The water was warm but not hot, but Len still winced as Barry helped him to lower himself in.

“You doing okay?” Barry asked though he wasn’t expecting a serious answer in return, and Len didn’t disappoint with his sarcastic reply of: ‘ _peachy_.’ Barry couldn’t help but notice that his voice was a little weaker than normal, that it didn’t have the same cutting tone as his usual snarky comments had, and that was all too disconcerting…

Barry didn’t really know what to do with himself now that Len was soaking his wound, and so he pulled up a stool and sat beside the tub. Len didn’t seem to want to talk, but that was okay because Barry could talk enough for the both of them. So, that was what he did.

“You better heal up quick, you know,” Barry began, “or Lisa might just decide to kick my ass for not keeping you safe.” Barry got a huffed laugh and an unintelligible grunt as his only reply, but he kept on speaking. “The _Flash’s_ ass, I mean, since she doesn’t know it’s actually me in the suit. Do you think she’d rope the rest of the Rogues in too? I mean, Mick’s probably going to be none too happy either, so I’m guessing he’ll jump at the chance… The other Rogues probably wouldn’t mind taking the Flash on again either, now that I think about it,” Barry kept on rambling nervously. “And wouldn’t it be funny if she recruited _me_ to help her kick my own ass?”

That drew another laugh out of Len. A bit more of a chuckle than the last one had been, and so Barry took it as a win.

“I am kind of an honorary Rogue at this point so, you never know, it could happen.”

“Somehow, I don’t see that happening,” Len said, he was smiling, but it looked a little off to Barry’s eyes, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly was wrong with it. Maybe it was just Barry’s imagination, maybe the way that Len spoke so slow and breathless was making Barry overanalyse everything else.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I’m a pretty good shot,” he argued back, fake-insulted by Len’s comment, and grinning when he noticed Len’s smile widened just a fraction. “I’d make a great addition to your team.”

“You already do.”

Barry was surprised by how much those three little words meant to him. He knew that Len cared about him, that they were friends, but it was still nice to hear it. It was odd, considering who they were and how they’d met, but Barry was glad that he knew Leonard Snart.

“And you make a pretty good addition to my team, too,” Barry said, his heart panging in his chest. He tried not to let his guilt over what had happened at the bank – what Barry had been too slow to stop – affect him now, but it was hard to just push something like that out of his mind.

Caitlin returned before either of them could say anything else, knocking on the door before pushing it fully open. She rolled an IV pole into view and smiled politely at them.

“I’m going to hook you up to some antibiotics now, if that’s okay, Leonard,” she said, moving closer to the tub. Barry took a step back to get out of the way, and she thanked him while she took his seat. “We don’t want you getting an infection.” Len nodded at that, and so she took his arm and began to search for his vein to insert the IV. Barry watched anxiously in the background, wishing that he wasn’t so useless in this situation.

That was when Cisco came back into the room, offering his phone to Barry and mouthing the word ‘ _Joe._ ’ Sighing, Barry took the cell and held it to his ear while Cisco began to help Caitlin. Barry thought about leaving the room so that he could talk to his foster father in privacy, but he couldn’t bring himself to take more than a couple of steps away.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Barry, I’ve been calling you for ten minutes!” Joe said, sounding relieved, maybe, but with a dash of annoyance thrown in there too.

“Sorry, I haven’t changed out of my Flash suit,” Barry admitted. He hadn’t had time to change, so his phone was still sitting on top of a pile of his clothes in the cortex. “What’s going on? Did you get Fries to the precinct okay?”

“Yeah, Eddie’s booking him in now,” Joe said. “He’s been talking, though he’s not made a whole lotta sense.”

“What about?”

“A girl. Not getting all that much out of him, but he keeps saying that we have to let him leave so that he can save her life.”

“Do you have a name?” Barry asked, trying to give Joe and the case his full attention, though his gaze kept drifting back over to Len. “Cisco might be able to dig something up.” Joe paused before answering, and that typically would have served as a warning to Barry. But, right now, he was only interested in watching what Caitlin was doing as she’d finished inserting the IV tube into Len’s arm and was hooking him up to an antibiotic drip.

“Nora.” That got Barry’s attention. Logically, he knew that Fries couldn’t be talking about Barry’s mother but, for a split second, that was all Barry could think about. The second passed, but the burning it had caused in his chest and throat lingered on. “You alright, Barr?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, but this wasn’t the time to talk about his parents, nor the hole that their deaths left inside him.

“We’ll see what else we can get out of Fries,” Joe said, probably not buying Barry’s lie but not calling him out on it either, which Barry appreciated. “But he’s not being the most forthcoming; ever since we got him out of the car, he just went quiet.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Caitlin asked, bringing Barry back to the situation in the room, even as Joe continued to talk into his ear, but Barry was taking less and less of that in. His immediate reaction was to worry for Len as he watched while Caitlin held her hand in front of Len’s face, but Barry tried to squash that back down. This was probably just routine, he told himself, it didn’t mean anything was wrong.

Barry had been standing beside Len, only a few feet away, but he now moved around the tub to be closer to Caitlin and get a good look at Len’s face. His eyes were narrowing, and his brow furrowing deeper as he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times without saying a word.

“Four,” Len finally answered, and Barry’s stomach dropped because Caitlin had been holding up _three_ fingers. Cisco, Barry, and Cait all shared a look, and then Caitlin moved to grab a small torch out of a nearby drawer. She returned to Len’s side, hunching down to his eye level and holding one finger up in front of him as she clicked on the torch.

“Can you look over here for me?” she asked, indicating to her finger and using the other hand to shine the light directly into Len’s eyes, one at a time. She was moving the finger around and getting a look into Len’s eyes at different positions when Joe all but shouted Barry’s name from the phone Barry still had pressed against his ear. He flinched momentarily away from the cell, grimacing as he got the feeling that Joe had been trying to get his attention for a while now.

“Yeah, Joe, I’m still here.”

“Uh-huh. Did you hear anything I just said?”

“I…” The answer to that, of course, was a resounding no. “Sorry, Joe, we can talk later. I have to go.” He’d hung up before Joe had even got a chance to say goodbye or ask what was going on. Barry passed the phone back to Cisco and took that last little step closer to the tub, standing at the front now, directly opposite Len.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as Cait turned the torch off and stood up straight again.

“Snart has a bit of double-vision,” she said, she didn’t sound too worried about it but, then again, she didn’t really like Len all that much, so why would she be worried? Barry, on the other hand, _cared_ for Leonard Snart. Len was Barry’s friend and, as such, he could feel himself getting agitated. “Probably from the morphine. It’s nothing too serious, but we’ll need to keep an eye on it.” She turned back to Len then and smiled politely at him. Surprisingly, Len smiled back. It was a little lopsided and only really the barest curve of his lips, but it was there. “How’s the pain, Leonard?”

“Pain?” he asked, the word coming out slowly as though he needed to roll it around on his tongue to know what it meant. At first, Barry thought it was some kind of joke, but then he looked at his friend a little closer. Len’s face wasn’t quite as pale now as it had been when he had first brought him here, though he still didn’t look any more alert. If anything, Len seemed to have become wearier and more absent-minded, as though he were struggling to keep up with the conversation. Barry moved around the tub so that he was standing right next to Len again now.

“Your leg,” Cait prompted, and Len only frowned. Barry thought back to the moment of the attack, trying his best to remember whether or not Len had been hit on the head during it. The blast of ice that Fries had sent Len’s way had only hit his leg, but Barry had kind of dropped him pretty sharply on the floor afterwards.

So… what if…?

“Do you not remember getting hurt?” Barry asked, feeling worry clawing in his chest. At the sound of his voice, Len’s head whipped around to face Barry, the water in the tub sloshing as he did and spilling out onto the floor.

“Hey,” Len grinned. “When did you get here?”

“I… I’ve been here the whole time.”

“Huh…” Len almost looked like he was _pouting_ now. He continued to sway slightly as though his head was too heavy for his shoulders, lolling a little from front to back and side to side in time with his breaths. It was beginning to look less like Len was weak with pain, and more as though he was merely high.

“How much morphine did you give him?” Barry asked, turning to Caitlin, who seemed to be coming to a similar conclusion as Barry had.

“In hindsight… too much,” she admitted, sounding a little nervous about it, but it was a relief for Barry, at least. “I’m not used to giving painkillers to someone who doesn’t have a super-metabolism.”

“He’s not about to overdose, is he?”

“No,” Caitlin said, shaking her head. “No, he’ll be fine. I think.”

“Way to inspire confidence,” Cisco muttered, and Caitlin glared back at him. Len laughed, seeming to find that pretty funny. Barry had never heard Len laugh like that before, so relaxed and jubilant. It was contagious, pulling a smile out of Barry too.

“I’ll lower it for the next dose,” Caitlin promised. Barry placed his hand on Len’s shoulder, more for his own support than for Len’s, relieved beyond belief that Len wasn’t actually concussed, but still decidedly worried about his friend. Len turned his smile Barry’s way as his laughter died down, and Barry retook his seat next to the tub once more.

“How long does he have to stay in here?” Barry asked, and Cait looked to the clock on the wall before answering.

“Another ten minutes should do,” she said, beginning to pack up all of her things. “Though he’ll need to repeat the process twice a day for the foreseeable future.” She turned to face Len, but he wasn’t paying any of them any attention anymore, his eyes drawn down to the water he was sitting in as he moved his hand around to make ripples. So, Cait turned back to Barry again instead. “He’ll have to make sure the water remains at around 104 degrees,” she said. “It’s easy enough to do here with one of these hydrotherapy tubs, but I’m assuming Snart won’t want to come all the way here just to take a bath.”

“Probably not,” Barry said, agreeing to pass on the message once Len was a bit more lucid. As though on cue, Len looked up at Caitlin and frowned.

“Why are you in my bathroom?”

“Okay, you sure are delirious,” Barry laughed – because it was either laugh or hyperventilate, and Barry really didn’t want to start panicking unless there was a reason to.

Len’s eyes wandered away from Caitlin to Barry and finally back down at the water he was sitting in. He began to pluck at the way his wet shirt clung to his chest. Len sat forward and began to pull at it with more determination, trying to take it off.

“Woah, easy there,” Barry said, lunging forward and grabbing Len’s hands in a tight hold so that his friend wouldn’t accidentally tear his IV from his arm.

“My clothes are going to get wet,” Len protested weakly, and he sounded so distressed about it that Barry couldn’t have kept the next laugh bottled up inside even if he’d tried.

“I… I think it’s a little late for that one.”

“Oh, this is fantastic,” Cisco muttered under his breath. Barry looked over at him, only to see that Cisco had his phone out and was seemingly recording the whole thing.

“Why is _he_ in my bathroom?” Len asked.

“We’re in STAR Labs,” Barry tried to explain, releasing his hold on Len’s hands but hovering just over him in case Len attempted to get undressed again, but Len shook his head.

“What do you remember about today?” Caitlin asked. Len stared at her blankly for a few moments, and so – figuring that they weren’t going to get an answer – Barry decided to fill him in. He told Len everything that had happened, from arriving at the bank, their plan, Len getting hurt, and right the way up until just this very second. Barry wasn’t so sure that Len had taken it all in, but he felt the need to try anyway.

He didn’t know what he’d really expected to happen after that; maybe for Len to remember everything and just snap out of this, to return to being his regular old cocky self again? Barry knew that wasn’t going to happen, that wasn’t how delirium worked, and Barry _knew_ that. But he must have expected _something_ to happen because, once the recap was over and done with, and Len only sat there and stared back at Barry with that confused expression, Barry only felt disappointed.

The seconds passed, and Barry sighed; he realised that he had been unconsciously leaning forward and so he shuffled back on his stool now, but Len just kept on watching him. It wasn’t a blank look, but Barry didn’t quite know what it meant, either. After a moment, Len finally spoke.

“I like your eyes. They’re very… green.”

“The fact that that isn’t the strangest thing you’ve said to me in the past ten minutes is a bit worrying,” Barry blushed. He didn’t know what else to say but, thankfully, Caitlin spoke up.

“Okay, I think it’s time to get Snart out and bandage up his leg,” she said, glancing at Cisco and nodding her head towards the door to indicate that they should leave. Barry baulked at the realisation then that he was going to have to undress Leonard Snart _again_ for the second time in less than an hour. But his friends were quickly leaving the room before Barry could protest – not that he was really going to… After all, it was Barry’s fault that Len was injured in the first place. “I’ll be in the cortex when you’re ready.”

And then, Caitlin and Cisco were gone, and Barry was alone with Len again. He turned to look back at his friend and saw that Len was still just staring at him.

“So _green_ ,” Len repeated, and Barry cleared his throat.

“Right, let’s get you out of here,” Barry said, hooking his hands under Len’s arms and helping the man to his feet. Once he was sure that Len was steady enough to stand for a few moments on his own, Barry temporarily disconnected the IV line – he’d been hooked up to one of these things so often since becoming the Flash that he’d kind of had to figure out how to work them – and helped Len to pull the shirt up over his head, throwing the sopping mess onto the floor by their feet. Len didn’t make any remarks about Barry dressing him this time, probably too delirious to even really comprehend it was happening. Barry felt uncomfortable about that, felt like he was somehow abusing Len’s consent here, but he couldn’t just leave Len alone like this without any help, and so he continued on anyway.

As though to prove Barry’s point about how feeble he currently was, Len began to lean into him, not able to hold himself up and needing Barry’s support. Barry wrapped one arm around Len’s waist, tucked under Len’s arm to carry his friend’s weight.

Barry’s free hand went down to the waistband of Len’s STAR Labs sweatpants, hooking his thumb under them and nudging them down. It was awkward; not just the position – with Len draped over Barry’s arm, his head lowering, his forehead pressing against Barry’s clavicle, and all-around just plastered to Barry’s side – but also what he was actually _doing_. Barry wished that he could just speed through the task again like he had done earlier, but he didn’t want to do anything that might worsen Len’s condition, and so that meant that Barry had to do this the old-fashioned way.

Thankfully, the water inside the sweatpants added a significant amount of weight to them and made it easier to tug them down, even when Barry was working one-handed. Once they were past Len’s hips, the material just dropped to the ground in one loud splat against the tiled floor. Barry sighed in relief, trying to figure out a way to guide Len into stepping out of the pants and sitting back down onto the bench without making his injury flare-up. And then there was the whole issue about getting him dry enough to pull fresh clothes on… Barry hoped that Len at least had the sense of mind to be able to towel dry himself without assistance.

But, if the way Len had begun to nuzzle his head against Barry’s neck was any indication, Barry figured Len might just fall asleep before they could even get him to the bench. He was trying to decide whether doing this while Len was unconscious was less or more awkward – it was certainly creepier, that was for sure – when Len lifted his hand up to tug the Flash suit out of the way and push closer to Barry’s skin. Barry figured that Len just didn’t like the material of the suit against his face, or maybe that the zipper there was digging into him uncomfortably… But Len’s hands were still damp from his recent soak, and a droplet of water found its way onto Barry’s skin, running down the length of his chest and leaving a chill in its wake.

Barry shivered, and Len lifted his head from Barry’s shoulder to look him clearly in the eye – which was the only part of Len that Barry was allowing himself to look at, hyper-aware of the fact that his friend was still very much naked in front of him. And, well, he’d already seen enough of what Len had going on down there today.

Really.

He _had_.

And when Barry’s eyes did stray further down Len’s body… well, that was only to check on his injured leg – which had gone from impossibly white to a bright and burning red ever since the area had been rewarmed.

Len looked like he wanted to say something, and so Barry waited patiently as the seconds ticked on by without a word being uttered. But, from the way that Len stared at Barry now, his intense blue eyes studying Barry’s whole face, Barry knew that whatever he wanted to say had to be important.

Or maybe it wasn’t?

Len wasn’t exactly acting like himself right now, and he’d said some pretty strange things in this past half an hour. So, maybe, whatever this was, it wasn’t going to make any sense either?

But there was only one way to know that for sure, and that was to wait him out.

After a few more seconds passed, Len’s mouth fell open a little, and his tongue darted out to lick at his dry lips, but he still didn’t speak.

And then, Len leant in closer.

At first, Barry didn’t quite understand what was happening. Not until Len’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Woah,” Barry said, grabbing Len by the shoulders to steady his friend, righting him to keep Len from falling down against Barry. “Maybe we should sit you down before you topple over.”

“Wasn't going to fall over,” Len muttered, lazily blinking his eyes open again; his pupils were dilated wide from the morphine, and he was frowning – no, _pouting_ – back at Barry now.

And Barry laughed.

He couldn’t help it! The situation he’d found himself in was just too ridiculous. If someone had told Barry that today he’d be helping a naked, drugged-up Captain Cold to get dressed, then Barry would have called them crazy. Hell, if someone had told him that Len could actually _pout,_ then Barry wouldn’t have believed them. And yet, here they were…

“Right,” Barry said as his laughter died down, leading Len over towards the bench. “Well, just call me over-cautious then.” Once Len was sitting down again, Barry zipped over towards the cupboard and back, handing Len a towel to dry himself with. “Come on, we’ve got to get you dressed so that Caitlin can bandage your leg.”

Len dried himself without complaint or issue while Barry tore the legs off of a second pair of sweatpants and helped Len into them before he could finally mark this little mission a success.

Barry told that to Len, laughing as he looked down at his half-soaked Flash suit and added on: “and I only got a _little_ wet.”

“Only a little?” Len asked; he sounded almost disappointed, and Barry rolled his eyes. He wondered if Len had deliberately been attempting to soak him and decided that he couldn’t rule it out as a possibility. Even when high on morphine, Len was still a tiny bit vindictive, it seemed.

“Better luck next time,” Barry muttered, and Len blinked at him in a strange way which Barry thought was _supposed_ to have been a wink, but he couldn’t say for sure… Smiling and shaking his head, Barry handed Len a sweatshirt to put on and left the room to go in search of Caitlin.

He headed towards the cortex, hearing Cait’s voice drifting out into the corridor, followed quickly by Cisco’s. Barry couldn’t really make out what they were saying, talking over the top of one another like that, but he heard Joe’s name being mentioned and figured that his foster father had called to fill them in on what Fries was talking about back at the station; they always got excited when debating with each other and figuring out clues, so Barry thought nothing of it.

He glanced down at the Flash suit again as he walked into the cortex, pulling at it where the damp material clung uncomfortably to his skin. The room fell quiet as he entered, and Barry figured they were waiting on his verdict about Len, but he didn’t look up just yet as he unzipped his suit just a little more so that he could put some air between it and his skin.

“Snart’s dry and dressed,” Barry said, looking up and only now realising that they weren’t alone in here. Joe was standing there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, and Barry’s steps faltered before coming to a complete stop just past the doorway. “Oh… Hey, Joe.” Barry tried his best to look innocent, but Joe only stared him down, and Barry knew he was screwed.

“Give us the room,” Joe said to Barry’s friends. They didn’t move right away, but then Joe levelled them with a glare that made them both scurry off, giving Barry an apologetic look as they left. But it wasn’t their fault that Barry had messed up.

When Joe turned his gaze to Barry, it was a little less cutting, a little more emotional. There was definitely a whole load of disappointment in those eyes, and that made Barry wince.

“What’s going on?” he asked – more like demanded, actually – and Barry ran his hand through his hair nervously.

“Snart was hurt,” Barry said, dodging Joe’s real question. “At the bank. Freeze got him.”

“And you’re… what? Taking care of him?”

“I guess?” Barry shrugged, a bout of nervous laughter bubbling out of him as his heart raced uncomfortably in his chest. “It’s mostly Caitlin, really. I’m just kind of… there.”

“Right.” Joe didn’t look convinced by Barry’s nonchalance, and Barry finally had to admit that Len was right… he really _was_ a terrible liar. “Watching over Snart, helping him to get _dressed_ ,” Joe listed. “I didn’t realise that was in the Flash’s job description.” Barry didn’t know what to say, but Joe kept on talking anyway. “And it’s not just that; it’s the way you’ve been acting around him lately, trusting him, sharing inside jokes, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you smile when Snart’s around. You even have his phone number!” Joe was shaking his head, looking stunned. “He’s a criminal, Barry, your enemy. And you’re… You’re acting like you’re…” _friends_.

Joe didn’t need to finish his sentence, and Barry didn’t need to answer, they both already knew the truth. He wanted to say something then, to try to explain it all, but he didn’t even know where to begin, and so he stood back and watched Joe’s face turn from confusion to anger. Joe opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out and, instead, he took a step back from Barry and began pacing the cortex.

Joe looked _pissed_ , and that kind of hurt. A lot, actually.

It wasn’t like he and Len being friends was the end of the world! The two of them getting along wasn’t exactly hurting anyone. In fact, Barry supposed it probably had the opposite effect!

But, then again, of course, Joe wouldn’t see it that way. He was the guy who’d stopped talking to Barry’s father after arresting him; just kind of blocked him out, stopping by the prison occasionally to fill Henry in on anything important in Barry’s life, but that was that. The friendship that they’d once had was wiped out like it was nothing the moment Joe had become convinced that Henry was a criminal. Because that was just the kind of man that Joe was: to him, everything was black and white.

But Barry didn’t agree. He knew that not everyone who did bad things was a terrible person, he knew that _Len_ wasn’t a bad person, and he _had_ to get Joe to see it from his perspective… just this once.

“Joe –” Barry began to say, but Joe just cut him off.

“Don’t,” he warned. And that was how Barry knew he was in big trouble. He’d had a _lot_ of arguments with Joe over the years, but he’d never seen his foster father so angry that he couldn’t even talk.

Barry glanced away, staring down at the floor under his feet and just waiting for the inevitable fallout to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this chapter a bit more angsty and go the whole ‘ _desperate hand-holding, blind with pain, wrecked with guilt_ ’ route. But then I was like nah… I can do that in just about any of my fics, but in how many of them can I make Len absolutely high off his head on painkillers without it feeling out of place?  
> And thus, this chapter was born.
> 
> Did I overdo it? Perhaps.  
> Do I regret it? Absolutely not.
> 
> PS. Why are there so many Nora’s in the DCU? Like, this is ridiculous, please pick another name.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super long. I’d apologise, but y’all are probably happy about it, so enjoy!

“You’re acting like you’re…” _in love with him_.

Joe couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence, but he didn’t need to. The look on Barry’s face spoke enough for both of them.

Leonard Snart.

Leonard _goddamn_ Snart.

The clues had all been there from the beginning… Joe should have realised, should have put it together sooner, should have done _something_ to stop it from happening. He’d known that this relationship of Barry’s was going to be bad news, knew that the only reason Barry would keep anyone a secret from them was that Joe wouldn’t approve. But he had ignored his gut instinct, hoping that he was wrong. God, how he wished he could take his silence over these past few months back now…

_Leonard Snart_.

How had this even happened?

It was true that Barry had always been favourable towards Captain Cold, but there was a big difference between turning the blind eye every now and again to Snart’s crimes, and _dating_ the man!

This was it. Joe had officially failed as a cop, and probably as a mentor and father too.

Henry Allen was likely laughing down at him from heaven; that or making a valiant effort to haunt his ass for messing up so badly. Joe wouldn’t even blame the guy. Karma was a bitch, he supposed.

And maybe that was what this was about, maybe he was being punished by some cosmic entity for helping to arrest an innocent man. _Henry_ should have been the one to raise Barry Allen and, maybe, if he had, the Flash wouldn’t currently be dating Captain Cold.

Joe was very aware that he hadn’t spoken in too long, but he’d needed a second to breathe, to calm down before he ended up saying something he regretted. Looking back up at Barry now, he realised how small his son looked, standing there in his wet Flash suit and staring back at Joe with those big wide eyes.

Joe sighed, wondering how everything had gone so very wrong.

“Barry,” Joe said, after opening and closing his mouth a few times without a single sound escaping him. “This is… it's Leonard Snart! You're... you two are..." Joe couldn't even say the words, didn't want to admit it aloud, but there was no denying them: his son was dating a wanted criminal.

“I know,” Barry said. “I know that it's weird, okay. But Len isn't the guy who you think he is.” That one line managed to undo all of the progress Joe had made over the past couple of minutes to calm down. He tried not to let it irk him, but he just couldn’t bite his tongue at that one. How could Barry have got so damn misled?

“So, he's not the same man who has kidnapped two of your closest friends?” Joe bit out, and his son grimaced.

“He's changed,” Barry kept on insisting, and Joe shook his head as he saw red.

“He's tried to kill you!”

“That was... that was years ago,” Barry answered weakly, and Joe could only feel himself getting angrier.

“So, what? That just makes it okay? You can just forgive everything that Snart has done?”

“Yes!”

The question was supposed to have been sarcastic, but Barry's answer was said with such determination and loyalty that it gave Joe pause. He could hardly believe what he was hearing, but at the same time... well, it was just like Barry to overlook all of someone's flaws and cling onto that one shred of goodness they still had. But in Snart's case, Barry was mistaken; there was no good inside Leonard Snart. He was rotten, all the way to his core. Joe opened his mouth to say just that, but then Barry kept on talking before Joe could get so much as a word out.

"People change, Joe. And you don't have to forgive Len for what he's done in the past, okay. But I do. I forgive him. And you may not believe me, but Leonard Snart is a good man, and he's my friend."

" _Friend_?" Joe scoffed; he couldn't help it. It was clear that Barry and Snart were dating, and if Barry thought he could downplay that now, he had another thing coming.

But then Joe saw the look on Barry's face - the hurt, the determination - and Joe knew that his son was willing to fight for this man. But Joe was tired of fighting. Barry's lie was so apparent that it made him want to roll his eyes... but it also made Joe realise what lengths Barry was willing to go to in order to protect his relationship with Snart.

Just like Iris had done for Eddie.

The fact that both of his children would rather lie and sneak around behind Joe's back than come clean about their relationships wasn't lost on him. He knew that he was the common denominator here. His kids just wanted to avoid his disapproval.

And when Joe thought of it like that, he felt ashamed. His job as a parent wasn't to micro-manage every part of his children's lives but to support them as they became the people they were meant to be. And Joe had failed. _Truly_ failed. And not because Barry was dating a criminal, but because he was so damned scared of Joe’s disappointment that he didn’t even want to tell the truth of the matter. And what kind of father did that make Joe? Only a month ago, he had vowed that he wouldn't judge Barry's relationship, that he'd be supportive no matter what... and he’d already broken that vow.

Really, it was no wonder why his kids kept lying to his face...

Sighing, Joe made a decision that he hoped he wouldn't regret. But he knew that he wanted to be there for Barry, always, through thick and thin. And if that meant being supportive of his son's relationship with Leonard Snart...

Well, so be it.

"Fine," Joe said, nodding and gritting his teeth. "He's your... _friend_."

“He is,” Barry said with so much conviction that it made Joe’s heart ache for his son. It seemed that Barry was pretty gone of Snart already, and as much as Joe wanted to point out how _ridiculous_ that was… he didn’t; he kept his mouth shut. “Are you… okay?” Barry asked, seemingly surprised by Joe’s silence, and that only served to prove Joe’s earlier point: he’d handled this all wrong. But it was never too late to turn over a new leaf.

“Well, I’m never going to be thrilled about this,” Joe said, doing his best to keep the anger out of his voice. “But… I’m not going to try to stop you from… from being _friends_ with Leonard Snart.” The words physically hurt coming out, but Joe thought he’d succeeded in not letting that show. “You’re an adult now, so this is your call, Son; your life. I’ll support your decision no matter what.”

Barry was staring back at him with a purely bewildered look to his eyes, stunned silent, and Joe had to avert his gaze and look away in shame.

“Thanks, Joe,” Barry said, his voice quiet, and Joe gave a small nod of acknowledgement, still not able to look his son in the eyes again just yet without being flooded with so much guilt that it felt like he was drowning in it. So, Joe just walked away, leaving STAR Labs and heading home, knowing that he had a lot to think about and a long way to go before he made up for the way he’d been inadvertently treating his children.

[] [] []

Barry didn’t really understand what had just happened.

Joe had actually backed down from this fight… and Barry hadn’t ever seen him do that. Not that he was complaining. He had bigger things on his mind right now than whether or not his foster father approved of his friendship with Leonard. But it was just… bizarre. Barry tried to put it out of his head, though, as he tugged the Flash suit off and changed into his clothes.

Afterwards, he headed back to the hydrotherapy lab to find his friends. By the time he got there, Caitlin had already finished dressing Len’s leg, but Cisco was nowhere to be found. Cait turned to look at Barry as he entered the room, and Barry gave her a weak smile.

“How’s… how’s Snart doing?” he asked, nearly slipping up on Len’s name and having to remind himself that Caitlin didn’t know yet.

“Nothing to report,” she said, “which I’d say is good news. We should probably get him to a room with a bed in, though, because I don’t think he’s going to stay awake much longer.” Barry nodded, surprised actually that Len had managed to stay awake for as long as he had, knowing how lethargic morphine could make you.

“Not tired,” Len muttered and then immediately yawned. Barry just smiled.

“How are you?” Caitlin asked Barry, drawing his gaze again. “Joe wasn’t too harsh, was he?”

“I… He…” Barry started and stopped a few times, not sure how to answer Caitlin’s question without revealing to her that he and Len were friends. “It’s…”

“Don’t worry, Barry,” she said, smiling sheepishly and averting her gaze to look down at her hands. “I already know about… _this_.” Barry blinked at Caitlin in shock for a moment before he turned his alarmed gaze back to Len, but the older man was just staring wide-eyed at the bottle of antibiotics that he was hooked up to, transfixed as the liquid inside dripped steadily into his IV tube, with not a care in the world about what was going on around him.

“Cisco told you?” Barry asked, stunned and sceptical that his friend would spill his secrets after having spent the last few days trying to stop Joe from finding them out. It just didn’t add up. Barry turned back to face Caitlin as she shook her head, looking Barry in the eyes again now.

“No,” she confirmed. “No, I-” Caitlin paused, seeming at a loss for words. Finally, she sighed and shook her head again. “Well, it’s a long story. But you have enough on your mind right now, we can talk once Snart… erm, Leonard…”

“Len,” he offered, and she nodded, smiling softly.

“We can talk once Len gets better.”

Barry was relieved to hear that. He didn’t think he really had the energy to hold a proper conversation about this now, and so he was happy enough that Caitlin didn’t seem to care about his unorthodox friendship with Leonard Snart. He really _did_ have the best friends.

“Thank you,” Barry smiled, and Caitlin nodded. Cisco came back into the room again then, pushing an empty wheelchair. It was the one that Wells had used to trick them a few years ago, and the sight of it made Barry unnerved, but he pushed that aside now, knowing it would do him no good. Cisco smiled at Barry, though he seemed surprised to see him here again so soon.

“Hey, Dude, so you survived Joe’s wrath?” he joked, and Barry nodded, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m as shocked as you are,” he admitted, though as much as Barry appreciated their support and their concern, he just really didn’t feel like talking about it right now. It had been such a long day already, and it wasn’t even 1 pm yet; thankfully, his friends seemed to get that and didn’t ask any more questions. Barry turned back to Len and smiled at him. “Do you think you can get up and into that wheelchair without my help?” he asked, and Len looked almost offended by the suggestion.

“I can walk,” he insisted, pulling himself up and swaying awkwardly on his feet. Barry began to chew on his lip as he tried and failed to come up with a way to get Len to sit in the wheelchair, knowing that his friend could and would be stubborn on this if he felt like it.

“Of course, you can,” Caitlin nodded, talking in the same tone of voice as you might speak to a toddler, “but Barry just got done waxing the floors, and he can get a bit anal about this kind of thing so… better to just go along with it.” Len gave a short, huffed laugh and, surprisingly, took a step towards the wheelchair. His movements were shaky, and he had a very distinctive limp, and Barry hovered next to him just in case Len stumbled and fell, but he clung onto the IV pole and made it to the chair, sitting down without any additional support. Only then was Barry able to let out a relieved sigh.

Caitlin attached the IV to the chair, and Barry rolled Len out of there, taking him towards the closest room with a bed in it while Cisco and Caitlin stayed behind to tidy up. Len was quiet for the short time that it took to reach the other lab, but he brushed off Barry’s hands when Barry tried to help him stand and take the last few steps to the bed. As before, Barry hovered behind him, but Len again made it without incident.

Barry helped to tug the blanket over Len’s body, and Len laughed at him for it, giving Barry another one of his giddy smiles.

“Nurse Barry,” Len said, still not quite achieving his usual drawl but making a valiant effort. “You gonna fluff my pillow next?”

“You’re high.”

“I’m high-larious.”

Smiling, Barry shook his head and pulled a chair up next to the bed so that he could stay by his friend’s side. Len looked to be holding back another yawn, his eyes beginning to droop.

“You should get some sleep,” Barry said. There was no point in Len fighting the medication anymore, not now that he was safely out of the tub and all bandaged up.

“But I like talkin’ to you,” Len said, and Barry flushed happily at the comment, his cheeks beginning to ache with the strain of his grin.

“We’ll talk later when you’re not spaced out on painkillers.”

“Smart,” Len nodded. “You’re smart. And caring too. I’ve never had a boyfriend like you before, real or fake.” Out of all of the bizarre things Len had said tonight, Barry thought that this one may just have been the strangest of the lot, not entirely sure what to make out of the casual mention of Len having had a fake relationship in the past. Like… was that a real thing? Barry thought that only happened in RomComs.

But it wasn’t just that Len’s admission was so strange, it was also very personal and heartfelt. Len wasn’t the most forthcoming of Barry’s friends and hearing him speak about his love life now felt… odd. Wrong, even. Like Barry was eavesdropping on a conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“How about this,” Barry said, his voice quiet and soft as though sharing a secret with Len. There was an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach which Barry tried to shake off, but it only seemed to get worse. “Once you're better, we’ll see about finding you a smart and caring guy to date.” Len was frowning and shaking his head now, swaying a little bit from side to side as he did, so Barry reached his hand out to steady him.

“I don’t need anyone else,” Len said. “I have you.”

Barry didn’t quite know how to respond to that. So, he just said: “You’re going to be so angry at yourself if you ever remember any of this conversation.” And potentially angry at Barry too, for just being here and overhearing it all. Barry’s stomach twisted at that thought, hoping that he was wrong and that this wouldn’t affect their friendship.

Or maybe the way his stomach rolled right now was because of hunger? It was lunchtime, after all, and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

“Are you hungry?” Barry asked, mentally running through all of the local take-outs which would be open and serving lunch. He tried to decide what he fancied, though Barry was always so indecisive, always struggling to realise what it was that he actually wanted. Len shook his head.

“Are you?” he asked, looking momentarily alert again. “I’ll cook something.” And then Len was sitting up and attempting the kick the blanket off of his legs.

“I’m fine,” Barry said, quickly jumping to his feet and putting his hand on Len’s chest. “Cisco can pick me up a Big Belly Burger.” Len pulled a face at the mention of fast food. He looked like was going to argue, but Barry shook his head, imagining that – no matter how good of a cook Len might be sober – letting him use a stove now could only end in disaster. “And you shouldn’t be going anywhere like this; you need to get some rest.”

Len paused for a moment longer before slowly nodding and yawning once again at the mention of sleep.

“Okay,” he mumbled and went easily as Barry manoeuvred him back down onto the bed. Len shifted, lying down, but he didn’t close his eyes as he continued to watch Barry. After a few seconds passed, Barry sighed.

“You can’t sleep with your eyes open,” he said like he was reprimanding a child. God, he really hoped Len didn’t hate him for this when he was lucid again…

“You don’t know that,” Len grumbled, drawing a surprised laugh from Barry. Len looked a little proud of that, perhaps, as he waited for Barry to settle once more. His eyes must have begun to get heavy again, because his blinking was much slower now, almost as though he was struggling to reopen them after every time they closed.

“You know,” Len said struggling to not give in completely and drift off, “I sleep better when there’s someone else in my bed,” he prompted, giving Barry another one of those dopey smiles which Barry was coming to think was Len’s drugged-up attempt at a smirk.

“You like to cuddle?”

“Shh,” Len said, “don’t tell anyone.” His words were soft, and his eyes were closing, and Barry had to hold in his laughter, worried that it might startle his friend back to wakefulness.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he whispered, but he was sure that Len was already out like a light.

Barry waited a few minutes to make sure Len wasn’t going to just wake up again before he stood from his chair, deciding to go grab that burger he’d mentioned himself rather than making one of his friends do it for him. He dropped into the cortex before running off, offering to pick some food up for Cait and Cisco too, but they both declined.

“If you stop by Jitters, though,” Cisco said, “I wouldn’t mind a Pied Piper.”

“Really?” Cait asked, and Cisco shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean, the guy himself might be a dick, but his frappe is sweet,” Cisco defended himself. “Obviously, whoever mixed it up has never actually met Hartley Rathaway.”

Barry laughed, remembering how most of the Rogues had shared a similar sentiment about their own drinks too, including Len who still insisted that his signature coffee should just be a black espresso. Barry left the cortex as he considered Len’s comment, wondering what his friend would have to say about his blueberry frappe if Barry brought it up now that Len was hopped-up on pain meds.

He decided against it in the end, figuring that Len really _would_ be mad if he learnt Barry was deliberately using his diminished mental capacity to get him to spill his secrets.

Barry devoured his Big Belly Burger in record time but didn’t feel like he could stomach anything overly sweet today, so he decided not to pick himself anything up from Jitters when he went to order Cisco’s drink. He did, however, grab a couple of the voting cards and tick ‘ _Captain Cold_ ’ off on them before shoving them into the sealed ballot box that Jitters was using for the competition. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing that as a joke or not anymore.

Sure, initially Barry had only ordered the blueberry frappe which Jitters had named after his favourite anti-hero – Len was still very insistent that he not be referred to as a full hero, but Barry wouldn’t call him a villain anymore, either, so they’d recently settled on this as a compromise – because he’d thought the whole idea of the Rogues competition was simply hilarious. But, lately, he’d gotten himself a bit hooked on the drink, what with how much more refreshing it was than his usual order during these hot summer months, so he wouldn’t particularly mind if the iced coffee became a permanent addition to Jitters’ menu.

After making his vote and picking up the black forest frappe he’d ordered, Barry ran back to STAR Labs, handing Cisco his drink before returning to Len’s side.

He had work to do, both for his day job and his night-time gig as the Flash, but… But Barry didn’t want to leave Len by himself like this. He didn’t like the idea of Len waking up, confused and alone with no idea where he was. He wanted to be there for his friend in his time of need. Especially since it was _Barry’s_ fault that Len was injured. Len would have never got hurt if Barry hadn’t been so slow, and he wouldn’t have even been at that bank in the first place if Barry hadn’t brought him in on the case.

This, all of it, was on Barry, and he had to make up for it.

And, anyway, it was kind of nice to see Len like this. He often looked so callus and rigid when he was awake; even when he was being playful and teasing Barry, there would sometimes be a set to his eyes that showed Barry just how cautious and calculated everything Len said and did was, reminding him of how difficult it was for Len to relax and let his guard down. But, asleep, Len looked different. All of his worry lines were smoothed out, his frown softened, his breaths slow and calm. He was peaceful.

Len had been through a lot in life – too much – and Barry knew what that felt like, knew how difficult it was to carry the weight of your traumas on your back day in and day out. But when you dreamt, you could be anything. Asleep, Len didn’t have to be that kid who had grown up too fast, beaten and broken and remoulded into a hard man with a hard life. He didn’t have to be a criminal, didn’t have to continually be watching his back, didn’t have to live life always on the run.

Asleep, Len didn’t _have_ to be anything.

Barry wondered what Len dreamt about, what made him look so calm, so… happy.

Maybe it was a heist? Even if the rest of the criminal lifestyle wasn’t quite all it was cracked up to be, Barry knew that Len at the very least loved to work a job, to plan, and survey, and time, and be the very best at what he does.

Or perhaps he was dreaming of his family; his _real_ family, not the abusive man who had once called him a son but, instead, the people who cared about him and who he cared about in return: his sister, sure, but also Mick, likely some of the other Rogues, and – potentially – Barry too. Len had undoubtedly become a member of Barry’s family over the past few weeks, someone he trusted and cared deeply for, so Barry liked to think that Len thought of him in the same regard.

And then, there was always the chance that Len was dreaming of someone else…

If what he had spoken about with Barry before falling asleep was anything to go by, Len seemed to have romance on his mind. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that there was someone in particular who he’d been thinking about when he’d talked of boyfriends earlier. At that thought, Barry’s stomach twisted into knots, and his heart skipped uncomfortably, the mental reminder that he’d been witness to information that Len wouldn’t have shared under usual circumstances making Barry feel anxious. He hoped that Len wouldn’t blame him for that, wouldn’t take his drug-induced blither out on their friendship.

Barry tried not to focus on it too much now, but he couldn’t help but think about what kind of guy Len might be into, what he would look like, talk like, act like. Eventually, Barry had a picture in his head of a smooth, confident, attractive man. The kind of guy who Barry could never be.

He started wondering how Len and this nameless man would fit together, how they would spend their days… though he purposely did _not_ think about how they would spend their nights, having to physically block those images – which were complete, now that Barry knew what Len actually looked like naked – from popping into his head. Instead, Barry considered what kind of dates Len would take this guy on. Dinner and drinks were an obvious option but, other than that, Barry was drawing a blank. He didn’t really see Len as the kind of guy to go out for coffee, or bowling, or day trips to the lake for a picnic. Maybe the movies, though… However, he supposed that Len wouldn’t spend a whole lot of time actually _watching_ the film in that instance.

The longer Barry thought about Len and this nameless man together, the worse he felt while the guilt over what he’d heard continued to eat away at him. Still, he couldn’t seem to think of anything _else_ as time ticked away. How much time, however, Barry couldn’t say. He didn’t know how long he sat there, watching over his friend while his mind ran wild with thoughts he shouldn’t have. But, eventually, Caitlin showed up in the doorway.

“It’s time to redress his leg,” she said, her voice soft. Thankful for the distraction, Barry nodded and sat a little straighter so he could lean forward and press his hand against his sleeping friend’s shoulder.

“Len?” Barry said, tenderly shaking Len’s arm to try and wake him up. “Len, Cait needs to check your wound,” he said a little louder, but Len only made a half-grunt half-sigh, his eyelids flickering momentarily but remaining closed. Barry moved his hand instead to Len’s cheek and was surprised by the heat radiating off his skin. Barry scooched closer to the edge of his seat so that he could press his palm flat against Len’s forehead. “I think he has a fever,” he said, turning back to where Caitlin was still standing in the doorway. She nodded, looking unsurprised.

“I’ll get the thermometer,” Cait said, disappearing back into the hallway. Barry returned his attention to Len once more, moving his hand back to Len’s cheek and tapping him gently until Len’s eyes finally fluttered open.

“There you are,” Barry smiled, and Len returned it. “Caitlin needs to take another look at your leg and check your temperature,” he said, “think you can stay awake that long?”

“Wasn’t sleepin’,” Len said, even as his eyes closed again. Barry laughed and tapped him once more on the cheek.

“Of course, you weren’t,” Barry said when Len’s eyes found him once more. Barry dropped his hand from Len’s cheek and stood, leaning forward and hooking his arm under Len’s shoulder to help him to sit upright on the bed. Caitlin returned a few seconds later with the digital thermometer, placing a fresh tip on it and pressing it to Len’s ear. It beeped with the reading: 102.8 degrees Fahrenheit. That wasn’t so bad, and Caitlin didn’t seem alarmed by it, disposing of the used tip and placing the thermometer down on Len’s bedside table.

“Now, let’s take a look at that leg,” she said, smiling politely as she pushed the covers away from Len’s injured side and pulled back the bandage. Barry took a peek over her shoulder and noticed the skin had gone a reddish-purple colour now. Len’s eyes had already fallen closed, but as Caitlin began to press lightly at the wound, they shot open again as he winced in pain. “Sorry,” she said, sounding sincere. “But it’s good news. The damage has stopped spreading, and the skin has gone soft again.” That last part, she said to Barry as they both knew that Len wouldn’t remember a thing of this conversation as his eyes were already closing again.

“He’s going to be okay?” Barry asked, needing to be sure, and Caitlin nodded.

“He’s going to be okay.”

Barry sighed in relief, turning his attention back to Len’s sleeping form as Caitlin redressed his leg with fresh bandages. Once again, Barry was overtaken by how peaceful Len was when he slept. Barry didn’t want to disturb him, but he figured Len wouldn’t be too happy to wake up later with a bum leg _and_ a crooked neck, so Barry leant forward and pressed his hand against Len’s cheek again just as Caitlin had finished with the dressing and pulled the cover back over Len’s leg. She then moved to disconnect the now empty antibiotic drip and replace it was a saline and glucose bag instead.

“His leg will start blistering soon,” Cait continued while she worked, and Barry managed to get Len to wake up _just enough_ that he could coax him to lie back down, “but if it’s looked after, it should heal quickly; in a few weeks, maybe. I can’t guarantee that it won’t scar, though.”

Barry nodded his understanding. Len had plenty of scars, Barry had seen them all today when he’d been helping his friend to get dressed, so he didn’t think Len would mind one more. But _Barry_ minded. He’d let Len down, and this scar was just going to serve as a permanent physical reminder of that.

“Thank you,” Barry said as he retook his seat by Len’s side, forever grateful to have Caitlin as his friend and on his team. She smiled and left the room, left Barry to his thoughts, his regrets, and his grief.

[] [] []

When Len woke up, it took him a moment to orientate himself with his surroundings. He wasn’t used to waking in a strange bed since he’d moved back to Central and taken up permanent residence once more in his Grandfather’s house. Spending the odd night here or there crashing in one of his safe houses was one thing, but this room was like no safe house Len had ever seen, and he felt unsettled not knowing where he was.

But then he saw Barry, and the uncomfortable feeling clinging to Len’s chest and clogging up his airways dissipated. He didn’t really remember much about what had happened, didn’t know why he’d been sleeping in what he now assumed was one of STAR Labs’ rooms, but Barry was here, napping on a chair next to the bed, so Len knew he was safe.

He lay there for a while, wordlessly watching the rise and fall of Barry’s chest along with his slow deep breaths. It was… strange. Len didn’t remember getting hurt, but he knew that must have been what happened for him to wind up in a hospital-esk bed with no recollection of how he got there. Len didn’t like not remembering, but that wasn’t the strange part, not really, he’d gotten hurt on plenty of jobs in the past. What was strange was waking up again with someone by his bedside, looking like they’d been there all night watching over him until they couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Len had never really experienced this before.

Mick and Lisa looked out for him, sure. But Mick got antsy staying still for too long, and Lisa was almost as emotionally stunted as Len was and found it easier to get angry at her brother for winding up hurt than show him concern. Not that she didn’t _feel_ it, she just couldn’t _show_ it. And Len didn’t mind that, couldn’t blame her for it when it was himself that she’d learnt it from… Truth be told, more often than not Len wouldn’t even tell either of them about his injuries, having learnt how to stitch himself up to avoid it.

But this, waking up with Barry by his bedside, was… nice. Better.

Even if the kid was a drooling mess of bedhead and scruff in the mornings.

_Was_ it morning? This lab didn’t have any windows in, and the clock on the wall read 10 minutes to 8, but it was analogue. So, was it 7:50 am or pm? Len couldn’t say for sure.

He moved to sit up, though it wasn’t an easy task with the way his head started spinning and his leg spiked with pain at the smallest motion. Len allowed himself a grimace, knowing that Barry wasn’t awake to see it.

Once the world had stopped spiralling on its axis, Len pulled the bed sheet up to get a look at his leg and assess the damage. His thigh was bandaged up, but there didn’t look to be any blood there and, anyway, it felt different than any injury he’d had before, nothing like a gunshot or stab wound. He thought of pulling the dressing off to get a better look, but then his eyes caught onto the clothes that he was wearing and Len frowned.

The last thing he remembered, he was wearing his Cold gear: blue parka, black top, skinny jeans… definitely not a pair of STAR Labs sweats.

Which meant that someone, probably Barry, had had to change him.

Len didn’t know how he felt about that.

Barry's phone was resting on the bedside table, and so Len leant over to pick it up now, gritting his teeth against the pain that the movement caused. The lock screen confirmed that it was, in fact, Sunday morning. Len frowned, wondering why he wasn't hungrier, but then he vaguely remembered Barry trying to coax him into eating a bowl of… something.

The memory, as incomplete as it may have been, gave Len pause. He couldn't quite tell if it had really happened or if it was a dream, but he knew that he must have eaten _something_ in the last 22 hours. Len tried to remember anything else since the moment that Barry had swooped him up to take down Mr Freeze yesterday morning, but all he got for his effort was bits and pieces, most of the day just being one big blur.

He didn't like that.

Having such significant blank gaps in his memory made Len feel uneasy, nauseous even. Or maybe that was just the painkillers. Barry's team had to have given him something strong for it to have affected him like this. Though it wasn't exactly the first time, as Len had learnt at a young age that his body didn't respond well to painkillers. Even the over-the-counter stuff made him feel drowsy, so whatever medication it was that the good Dr Snow had given him had probably just knocked him right out. Len knew he must have been in a lot of pain to agree to take anything at all. So, on the bright side, at least that had dulled some now.

Len stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before unlocking it – it seemed like Barry still hadn’t changed the passcode yet – and dialling Lisa’s number.

“Hello?” his sister picked up after only the second ring, and Len had to clear his throat before speaking.

“Hey, Lise, it’s me.”

“Lenny?” she asked, sounding relieved. “Where the _hell_ have you been?” And there was the anger. So, he supposed that she had noticed his little disappearance then… “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you, Jerk Face? You didn’t answer your phone, so I went to check on you; found your cell, wallet, bike, and all your keys left at the house, but no you.”

“Sorry Sis, I got called in to do a job,” Len quietly explained, not that he expected that to make her any less furious. As he spoke, Len kept an eye on Barry’s dozing form, trying his best not to wake him.

“What kind of job?” Lisa demanded. “Where are you?”

“STAR Labs,” he said, wishing he could have just breezed right on over the question, but having no choice but to answer it. “I need you to come pick me up.”

“Nuh-uh, I’ve been searching for you all night. If you need a ride, then steal a car.”

“Can’t,” Len admitted, imagining that driving on his leg right now would only cause trouble. Plus, he was very possibly still a bit strung out on whatever it was he’d taken for the pain, so getting behind a wheel was not a good idea.

“Are you hurt?” Lisa asked, picking up on Len’s hint. Though it was more of an accusation than anything else. Like he’d said… Snart’s weren’t exactly known for their caring nature. “What did you do?” Oh, if only Len knew.

“I’ll fill you in later,” he promised. Just as soon as Barry had filled _him_ in.

“Right,” his sister grumbled, not impressed by Len’s evasion. But, in this instance, he really _couldn’t_ give her the details. “Get your boyfriend to give you a lift.”

“Barry doesn’t drive,” Len sighed. Of course, Barry didn’t need to have a car to drop Len off anywhere, but Lisa didn’t know that. And, anyway, Len didn’t really feel like taking a trip at superspeed right now. Nor did he feel like asking Barry for more help when it already seemed as though the kid had spent the better part of the last 22 hours sitting by his side.

“Okay, then how about the Flash?”

“You want me to ask the Flash to run me home?” Len asked, sure that his sister was just being difficult for the sake of it now; she would usually never suggest that Len admit he was weakened to someone who was supposed to be his enemy. For a moment, Len considered actually saying okay and hanging up, just to see how Lisa would react. But, by the sounds of it, she was running on very little sleep, she was worried, and she was pissed off. So, Len decided that getting on the wrong side of his sister today wasn’t his best idea.

“Why not? By my count, he owes you a couple.”

“Lisa…”

“Fine,” she said, “but you’d better get me a damn good birthday present this year.”

“Your birthday was two months ago.”

“So?” Lisa didn’t sound at all bothered by the facts and Len felt like laughing but held it in so that he didn’t give her the satisfaction of it.

“I’ll steal you something worthy of your time.”

“Good. I’ll be there in twenty.” Lisa hung up right away, and Len twisted to place Barry’s phone back down onto the nearby table. His eyes once again fell on the Flash passed out next to the bed, and that was when Len noticed the slight up-turn of Barry’s lips and the way his breathing had become quicker and a little shallower too.

“Barry, were you eavesdropping on my phone call?” he asked, and Barry’s lips tugged up a little further before he eventually gave up all pretence and opened his eyes.

“Not intentionally.”

“Uh-huh,” Len muttered, and then he sat back and waited for the speech, but Barry only smiled over at him, saying nothing. “What? You got nothing to say about my parting words to my sister?”

“Only that stealing is bad, and you shouldn’t do it.”

“Right…” Len nodded, smirking. “Do you want me to steal _you_ something, too?” he teased, happy when he got the desired reaction as Barry choked out an undignified ‘ _no_ ’ and vigorously shook his head.

“Come on,” Barry eventually said, giving in to the overwhelming desire to insist Len was a good man “we both know you don’t have to steal anymore.”

“ _Have_ to?” Len shook his head, fighting a dizzy spell as he did. “No. But _want_ to? Now that’s a different story altogether.” Barry only rolled his eyes.

“You know I would have given you a lift home if you wanted one,” Barry said after a momentary pause, and Len nodded.

“Don’t worry about it, Lisa will be here soon enough,” he said before finally making the decision to get up. He manoeuvred himself around until his feet touched the cold tiled floor, but didn’t make a move to stand just yet as he asked: “Where are my clothes?”

“Your boots, parka, and shirt are still in the hydrotherapy lab, I think,” Barry said, and Len frowned, narrowing his eyes at the other item of clothing that had suspiciously gone unmentioned.

“And my jeans?” he prompted

“They were kind of… cut up.”

Damn.

They were his favourite pair. It was so difficult to find a pair of Kevlar jeans which were actually comfortable and looked great on. Len showed his disappointment in his stare, and Barry looked appropriately chastised.

“What happened, anyway?” Len asked, moving his gaze away from Barry to the IV pole that he was attached to, hoping to look and sound casual about it as he grabbed onto the pole and used it to leverage himself up and out of bed. The second he put any weight onto his injured leg though, he felt it spasm in pain. He wanted to wince and groan, but he bit onto the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing either.

Len made his way out of the lab and into the corridor with Barry close on his heels.

“Fries hit you with one of his cold energy blasts,” Barry said, and Len sighed at the realisation that his leg was _frostbitten_. Neither Lisa nor Mick would ever let him live this one down… “So, I brought you back here. Caitlin gave you some morphine and antibiotics,” ah, morphine… that certainly explained the way his head just wouldn’t stop spinning… “and we had to cut the jeans off of you to soak your leg in warm water.”

Wait, what?

“Are you saying you gave me a bath?” Len drawled, pausing in his slow shuffling steps so that he could turn back around to face Barry again. And that was the only reason he stopped walking. Honestly. It had nothing to do with how out of breath Len was becoming from only about a minute on his feet. At Len’s question, Barry blushed as dark a red as his Flash suit. So, it seemed that was a yes.

“Not… Not quite,” Barry said, and Len just made a non-committal ‘hmm’ and turned back around to continue walking, trying his best to make his limp seem less obvious.

“And then what?” Len asked, wanting to know everything that had happened, but also needing Barry to keep talking so that he had something to focus on other than the pain.

“You pretty much just slept after that.”

“And you stayed?” Len didn’t know why he’d asked that. It wasn’t an important detail to pick up on, not really, though Len was admittedly curious about why it was that Barry had spent the night sleeping in a frankly uncomfortable looking armchair rather than in his own bed. Still, Len normally wouldn’t have voiced his question, so maybe he was still experiencing some of the effects of the morphine?

“Where else would I go?” Barry asked, as though the reasoning was obvious and Len was dim for even bringing it up.

“What? Did West throw you out?”

“Not yet,” Barry laughed, though it sounded tight, so Len stayed quiet and just waited him out. “Joe kind of knows that we’re friends now.” Huh, Len couldn’t help but think that a lot really had happened while he’d been out of it.

“How’d he take that?” he asked, seeing the quick shrug that Barry gave out of the corner of his eye as he kept on slowly making his way down STAR Lab’s corridor, having only a vague idea of where he was going.

“Pretty well, actually. But…” Barry paused, shaking his head, “I don’t know, I guess I’m just waiting for him to erupt.”

“If he does,” Len said, “I’m sure you won’t be the one who gets the brunt of it.” As much as Len didn’t like Joe West, he couldn’t deny that the man loved his kids.

“Well, maybe I don’t want him to take it out on you, either.” Len didn’t see any chance of that not happening, so he kept quiet as they continued to hobble on. Another couple of seconds passed before Barry spoke up again, changing the subject back to Len’s injury. “Anyway, Caitlin says you should be back to normal in a few weeks. But until then you’ll have to soak your leg twice a day in warm water, for about half an hour at a time.”

Len nodded along to the instructions, though he knew he probably wouldn’t follow them very seriously. He wasn’t the best at taking orders.

“If you need any strong painkillers, you’ll have to come here,” Barry continued. “Cait hasn’t said anything against our friendship, but I don’t think she trusts you enough just yet to let you take the morphine back home with you.”

“What? Does she think I’ll turn into a drug dealer?” Len joked, and Barry stayed quiet, so Len took that as a yes and rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter, though, it wasn’t like Len would need to take any morphine home with him, nor that he would be showing up at STAR Labs for another dose any time soon, not liking the way his body reacted to the stuff. Len thought over the rest of the sentence, though, and frowned. “So, Snow knows now too, huh?”

“Yeah, and her husband Ronnie,” Barry nodded. “He came by last night to drop off some Chilli because you refused to eat a Big Belly Burger,” ah, so that had been what was in the bowl that Len vaguely remembered eating, “and Cait asked me if she could tell him.”

“He take the news well?” Len asked, recalling that Ronnie was the man he’d met a few nights ago and was one half of the hero known as Firestorm. The guy hadn’t seemed as uptight as some of Barry’s friends were, but that didn’t mean he would be okay with Len and Barry’s little friendship, and if Len had a superhero out there gunning for his head, he would rather know about it sooner than later.

“I think so,” Barry said, “I wasn’t in the room when she told him, but Cait didn’t mention anything to me about it so… I think we’re good.” Len nodded but made a mental note to keep an eye out for this Ronnie guy, just in case. “We’re here,” Barry said, pointing out a room a few paces ahead of them and slowing down so that Len could go through the doorway first and into the so-called hydrotherapy lab, which was basically just a room with an odd-shaped, shallow bathtub – that looked similar to what Len would expect a one-person jacuzzi to look like – in the centre of it.

Len cast his eyes around the benches and worktops in the room until he found his parka folded on a table next to a clean pair of sweatpants with his boots resting on the floor beneath them. His shirt was there too, spread out over the back of a chair, but it was damp to the touch at the edges, so Len decided against putting it back on. He didn’t mind that so much, anyway, thinking that he would need to be disconnected from the IV drip to take the STAR Labs sweatshirt off and not entirely wanting to give up his excuse for clinging onto the IV pole as he walked.

“Do you, err… need any help?” Barry asked awkwardly, and Len smirked as it all but confirmed that Barry _had_ been the one to dress Len into the sweats yesterday. Now that he’d had some time to think that over, though, Len realised that he was okay with it. So long as it was Barry, anyway.

Len wasn’t shy when it came to his body or his looks, he knew that he was attractive and kept himself in decent shape. Still, the thought of someone he barely even knew seeing him naked when he was so doped up on painkillers made Len feel uneasy.

But it was different with Barry. He _trusted_ Barry.

“I’ll be fine,” Len said rather than bringing any of that up. “You should get dressed too. Lisa will be expecting to see the Flash, not Barry Allen,” he reminded him, and Barry nodded, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

The second that Barry was out of sight, Len sighed, quickly dragging himself over to pick up the new pair of, unripped, sweatpants and collapsing down onto a bench. He took a moment to just breathe through the pain in his leg before pushing the cut-off sweats down and yanking the clean ones on.

Even with the way that Len shifted his weight around to avoid putting pressure on his injury, it didn’t take long to get dressed and tug on his boots. Still, Len decided to just sit there for a few extra moments to let the throbbing in his thigh subside a bit before he needed to move again.

He still clung onto the IV pole as he made his way out of the lab and towards the elevators, limping as he headed directly for the exit rather than making a detour to the cortex. He figured that Barry would put two and two together and meet him out front, which was precisely what happened a few minutes later. Barry handed him a large packet of bandages, informing him of Snow’s instructions to keep his leg covered for a week or so. Afterwards, he took his time removing the IV from Len’s arm, and Len raised one eyebrow but said nothing as Barry pressed a cotton pad against the spot where the needle had been, before covering it with a band-aid.

“I’ll text you later,” Barry whispered into his ear as Lisa’s car came barreling into the car park, pulling up right in front of them.

“You don’t need to check up on me, Barry,” Len said quickly – not meaning for it to come out sounding so abrupt, but not used to people caring for him either – before Lisa swung the passenger door wide open for her brother without even getting out of the driver’s seat. She gave Barry a nod and an emotionless ‘ _Flash_ ’ in greeting, and Barry returned it silently while Len lowered himself into the car. Lisa had pulled off again before Len had even fully closed the door, zipping out of the car park and away from STAR Labs.

[] [] []

Barry watched the car speed away and sighed, not quite sure what to do with himself now that Len was on his way home. Yesterday had been long and tiring, and he’d assumed that today would be much the same. But Len was clearly feeling a lot better now and was certainly not as inebriated as he’d been the last time that they’d shared a conversation, so it was good that he was going home to recuperate now. But Barry knew that neither of those things would keep himself from stressing about his friend’s health.

Barry was about to go back inside the lab when he saw Cisco’s van pull into the car park, so he instead chose to wait out for his friend.

Cisco got out of the van and gave Barry a closed grin as a greeting, his mouth full of whatever pastry he was eating.

“Where are you off to?” Cisco asked a moment later, and Barry shook his head as he explained that Lisa had swung by to pick Len up. Cisco looked a little disappointed as he realised he’d missed a visit – as brief as it may have been – from the other Snart sibling. “Do you want to go home too?” Cisco asked while taking the IV pole from Barry’s hands. “You had a long day. Caitlin and I can do without you while you get some rest.”

Barry shook his head, about to protest, but then he was overcome with a deep yawn that felt like it was forcibly being ripped from his soul.

“Go home, Dude,” Cisco insisted, and Barry finally nodded, though he wasn’t really looking forward to it as he knew he’d undoubtedly run into his foster father while at the house. And Joe had _seemed_ to accept Barry’s friendship with Len yesterday, but what if he’d changed his mind? Barry didn’t have the energy for an argument today.

Cisco appeared to understand his hesitance and grimaced, placing his hand on Barry’s shoulder in a show of support.

“Do you want to tell Joe that you’re crashing at mine instead?” he offered, and Barry was tempted, but he knew that putting it off wouldn’t do him any good in the long run; in fact, it could actually just serve to make things worse. Barry didn’t want that. He wanted Joe and Len to get along, to be able to have the two of them both in the same room every now and again without them tearing at each other’s throats.

“No,” Barry finally answered. “No, I need to face him again sooner or later.”

“So, does this mean no more sneaking around?” Cisco asked after a momentary pause, sounding hopeful, and Barry smiled but shook his head.

“Iris still doesn’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not quite sure how to tell her.” Iris was one of Barry’s best friends, and he wanted to tell her about Len, he did… but it was difficult. She could be as strong-headed as Joe at times, and Barry didn’t see this conversation ending well. Logically, he knew that the longer he left Iris in the dark, the worse the fallout would be, but Barry just didn’t think he’d be able to find the words to explain how he and Len had become so close.

“Yeah, I get that,” Cisco said. He sounded disappointed but, after a few seconds passed, Cisco started shaking his head and laughing almost hysterically. “I still can’t believe you’ve been sleeping with Captain Cold all this time without us knowing.”

Barry’s mind stuttered to an abrupt halt.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” he blurted out, sure that he must have heard wrong. But now Cisco was looking at Barry like _he_ was the crazy one.

“You and Snart…” Cisco let the end of his sentence drift off unspoken. When Barry only blinked back at him, Cisco sighed. “Please don’t make me repeat it,” he begged. “I’m doing my absolute best not to picture it.”

“Picture…? We’re just _friends_ ,” Barry insisted, vigorously shaking his head.

“Barry, come on. I already know, you can drop the act.”

“There’s no act,” Barry said, his voice rising a few octaves. “We’re not having sex. We’re friends. _Just_ friends.”

“Does Snart know that?” Cisco asked, sounding sceptical.

“Yes!”

Cisco just made a vague noise of agreement in the back of his throat and turned to start walking inside, leaving Barry behind to wonder how the _hell_ his friend had come to the conclusion that he and Len were sleeping together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can practically hear your hallelujahs from here. That’s right, 12 chapters and 58k words in, and Barry’s finally starting to get clued in about this whole ‘ _dating Len_ ’ situation.  
> Not that he’s ready to accept that yet or anything :)
> 
> PS. I get that a lot of you might be surprised by Joe’s quick acceptance of Barry and Len’s relationship. Some of you might even be disappointed by it, and I get that, I do. But until recently this fic has kind of been the epitome of the ‘fluff not fear’ tag, and that wasn’t really planned, but I guess I wanted it to stay as light-hearted as possible, so I chose to go this route instead. It’s a nice change of pace from my usual fics, tbh.


	13. Chapter 13

"You'll never guess what Barry told me this morning," Cisco said the moment that Caitlin walked into the cortex. He sounded scandalised, and Cait tried to pretend that she wasn't intrigued. She was trying to be a good friend, after all, and good friends didn't gossip about each other.

Although, what if this _wasn’t_ gossip? It was entirely possible that whatever Cisco had to share with her was vital information that, as Barry’s doctor, she needed to know for his continued good health. Barry wasn't here anymore to tell her himself, which Cait knew because he'd send her a text about an hour ago saying that his boyfriend was awake and they were both heading home. Heading to whose home, Caitlin didn't ask, though that wasn’t important right now. But what that meant was that Barry wasn't here to tell her himself, so Caitlin reasoned that she really should hear Cisco out.

Just in case.

"What did he say?" she asked, taking her seat beside him at the console.

"That he's not sleeping with Leonard Snart."

"They broke up?" Caitlin asked, startled. After the moments she'd witnessed between Barry and Snart yesterday, after Barry had spent every minute - waking or otherwise - by Snart's bedside, she'd thought their relationship was pretty damn sturdy. What could have possibly changed since last night?

"No," Cisco shook his head, "as in they were _never_ sleeping together."

“Why would he say that?" Cait asked, confused. Cisco only shook his head again.

But it didn't make any sense! Why would Barry try to lie about this now? Had Joe said something to him? Had he got scared and backed out? Caitlin had so many questions and so few answers. As did Cisco, it seemed.

After a few seconds of silence had passed, Cisco spoke up again. "Do you think it's true?" Caitlin immediately shook her head.

"No, he _told_ me they were together."

"Did he though?" Cisco asked, sounding unsure. "Like, did Barry actually say those words? Because I've been thinking about this for the past hour and I honestly don't think he ever outright said it." Caitlin was about to protest again, but she ended up biting it all back as she mentally ran through yesterday's conversation with Barry, realising that Cisco very well may be right. "And I can't think of any reason why he would lie about this now."

And that was a good point too. Why _would_ Barry lie to them about not being in a relationship with Leonard after they had both already assured him that they were okay with it?

"Is it possible that he meant they were, I don't know, taking things slow, maybe?" Caitlin asked. Not sleeping together didn't inherently mean not in a relationship. And she supposed it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility that Barry and Leonard would choose to take things a little steadier, considering their alter egos as hero and villain. Caitlin nodded to herself, sure that that must have been what Barry meant because it was the only logical conclusion that she could come up with.

"That’s what I thought, too,” Cisco told her as he shook his head. “But Barry said they were just friends. He was very insistent about that."

"I don't get it," Caitlin admitted, and Cisco shrugged as though to say ' _me neither_.'

After that, Cisco returned his attention back to what he was working on - probably still looking into Victor Fries' weird ramblings about a woman named Nora who _must_ have been his wife; except that didn't make much sense considering that Fries' wife had died of an incurable genetic disorder last year - and Cait tried to get wrapped up into her work too. But she wasn't making much leeway there. What Cisco had said was like an unsolvable riddle to Caitlin, and she couldn't get her mind off it, even as she logged into her computer and brought up her workload for the day.

Was it really possible that Barry and Snart weren't dating?

But, then, if they really were just friends... why was Barry keeping that a secret from everyone? Why would he bother?

Also, why had he spent the past couple of months so inexplicably happy when it looked as though no one else - not even _Iris_ \- had been able to snap him out of his grief?

And why had he looked so... so _broken_ yesterday when Leonard - Len, as Barry called him - was lying there in that bed?

If they really _weren't_ dating, then nothing else made sense.

Unless... Oh.

_Oh_.

"What are we going to do about this?" Cait eventually asked, and Cisco turned to look at her with a frown etched into his face.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." how was she going to phrase this? "I haven't seen Barry this happy in a long time."

"Yeah, me neither," Cisco admitted, confirming that it wasn't just Caitlin! There really was something going on there with Barry. Just... maybe not exactly what Cait had _thought_ was going on. Not yet.

"I think he might be in love with Snart."

"But he said-"

"I know," Cait interrupted Cisco's protests. "He said they're not dating, but that doesn't mean that Barry doesn't _want_ to date Leonard." Really, it was the only plausible explanation that she had. Which brought Cait to her next, very bad, terrible idea. "Maybe he just needs a couple of good wingmen to help him out."

Cisco gaped at her for a moment as though what she was hinting at was impossible. And maybe it was. Maybe she only thought it could work because she'd spent the past 2 weeks confident in the knowledge that they were already dating. Perhaps Barry Allen and Leonard Snart could never possibly be together.

But what if they could?

Barry deserved the chance to figure that out for himself.

"Are you really talking about trying to set the Flash up with Captain Cold?" Cisco asked, his voice hushed as though the words wouldn't be real if he didn't speak them too loudly.

"I think I am," Cait said. Though how on Earth she would possibly ever manage to do that, she didn't know. It was likely the worst idea that she'd had since she'd decided to just ' _drive past_ ' Saints and Sinners a few weeks ago. Good friends didn't meddle, she reminded herself. But good friends also didn't just sit back and let you be unhappy. And Barry would be, she was sure; if he didn't go after what he wanted now, then maybe he would never get another chance with Leonard. Barry was good at that, at waiting too long to make his move, and Caitlin had seen first-hand how spectacularly that had blown up in his face with Iris. She didn't want to let it happen with Len too. "Are you in?"

There was a long moment where Cisco only stared back at her. And then, finally, he sighed.

"Yeah, I'm in."

[] [] []

Barry had managed to slip into the house without running into Joe, sneaking upstairs for a nap without getting pulled into what he was sure would be an awkward conversation - and he'd had enough of those for one day, thanks to Cisco and his mind-boggling accusation that Barry and Len were sleeping together.

Though Barry would take awkward over angry any day of the week, so he supposed he should be grateful that Joe was at least trying to be understanding about Len and Barry's friendship. Admittedly, though, Barry wasn't so sure how long that would last for.

At any moment, Joe could change his mind and start shouting, and cursing, and telling Barry that he was a damn fool for putting his trust in Leonard Snart. And then, once he was done with that, he'd just start giving Barry that patented cold shoulder that the Wests were so well known for. Which might not have sounded so bad, but it made living in the same house as the guy all that much harder.

Barry really did need a good rest, so he quickly stripped out of his Flash suit - which, yeah, he usually didn't bring back to the house with him because he already kept a spare here, folded away in a duffle bag at the back of his bedroom closet, but going back into the cortex after what Cisco had said was just too much for him to deal with this morning - and threw himself onto the bed, face-planting into his pillow. His sleep, however, was nothing but restless. Barry tossed and turned for hours, but his mind wouldn't stop shouting at him. If it wasn't his concern for Len keeping him awake, then it was his anxiety about Joe, or even the way he kept overthinking everything that Cisco had said this morning.

When Barry eventually gave up and admitted defeat, he was even worse for wear than before he'd gone to bed.

Hunger was beginning to eat away at him as Barry washed and dressed into a fresh change of clothes before finally venturing downstairs for lunch. Joe was just heading out to the shops, but he greeted Barry as normal, told him about the pasta bake keeping warm in the oven, and left the house without so much as a disapproving shake of his head.

It was strange, strange enough that Barry momentarily considered a body-snatchers scenario… but it was good. If _Joe West_ could accept Barry’s friendship with Len, then… hell, anything was possible!

It made Barry feel lighter, his troubled sleep all but forgotten as he took his phone out of his pocket to check on Len, forgoing texting in favour of just ringing him instead.

“What do you want, Barry?” Len grunted as he answered the call. The leftover worry that had clung to Barry’s heart dissolved at the sound of his friend’s voice.

“Well, hello to you too, Grumpy,” Barry said; he put the call of speaker and placed his phone down onto the kitchen countertop as he moved to pull his lunch from the oven.

“I told you, you don’t need to check up on me,” Len said, sounding a little bit less agitated now, and Barry smiled.

“Maybe I just wanted to chat,” he said, laughing a little as Len replied with only a sceptical hum. Barry placed the heated plate down next to his phone, busying himself by grabbing cutlery and pouring a glass of apple juice.

“You know, _chatting_ usually requires some form of verbal communication,” Len prompted, and Barry grinned, picking his phone up and carrying it to the dining room table along with his lunch.

“You’re a good cook, right,” Barry said, it wasn’t really a question since he’d tasted Len cooking once before and knew the answer for himself. “I was thinking I might make something for Joe. He’s taken this whole friendship thing a lot better than I thought he would, and I wanted to show my appreciation.”

“You called for cooking tips?” he sounded baffled by that, and Barry laughed.

“Spoken like a man who’s never had to try my cooking.”

“Uh-huh. If that’s the case,” Len said, “then why cook anything at all? I thought you wanted to do something nice for West, not give him _E. coli_.”

“You have a point,” Barry nodded, stabbing a piece of cheesy pasta and popping it in his mouth as he thought. “Maybe I should just order in.”

“Mmhmm. Now, are we going to get to the real reason you called?”

Barry sighed and nodded, putting his knife and fork on his plate and taking a swig of apple juice to wash his food down; all the while, Len waited patiently on speakerphone for Barry to talk.

“How are you doing?” he eventually asked, and he imagined Len was rolling his eyes right about now.

"You're aware that I only saw you five hours ago, right?" Len drawled, and Barry _did_ know that, though it had certainly felt like a lot longer. Barry blamed that on his restless nap.

"A lot can change in five hours," he said, and Len sighed dramatically down the other end of the line, the noise coming out a little crackly through the speakers.

"I promise, Barry, if anything changes, you'll be the first to know." Barry analysed that, trying to figure out if Len was teasing him or being sincere. After a moment, he nodded, appeased, and picked his fork back up again.

“Now, back to that whole cooking thing,” Barry said, not quite wanting to hang up just yet. “I was thinking something easy like… enchiladas.”

“Chicken or beef?” Len asked, and Barry thought about it for a second before confirming chicken. “I’ll send you a recipe.” Before they could say anything else, though, Len suddenly let out a hiss of pain. Barry tensed at the sound, his eyes snapping to his phone sitting innocently on the table beside his lunch.

“Len?” Barry asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

“I’m fine, Kid,” Len brushed off, “just put a little too much weight on that leg.”

“You need to be more careful,” Barry said, not knowing what else he could say, and wishing that he could be there with Len now to make sure everything really was as fine as he made it out to be.

“A bit late for that,” Len laughed, but the sound came out a little more strangled and pained than he’d probably intended it to, only serving to make Barry more agitated. “I’ll be fine,” Len assured him again. “You said it yourself: a couple of weeks and I’ll be right as rain.” Caitlin had been pretty confident of that, yes, though the reminder didn’t do anything to ease the ache in Barry’s chest any. "I'll send you that recipe over," Len said. "Goodbye, Barry."

"Talk to you soon," he replied quickly, and Len laughed as he hung up. Barry continued eating his pasta, more or less satisfied that Len was on the mend and didn't need his assistance today. He tried to shake it off of his mind and think about something else, though the first thing to pop into his head was Cisco's comments this morning, and Barry quickly shoved that back down again.

Eventually, he started thinking about the case he was supposed to be working, feeling a little guilty for having ignored their meta - along with the claims that Mr Freeze was only acting to save a woman's life - for the past 24 hours in favour of worrying over Len's condition instead. But Barry was ready to get involved again now, so he polished off the last of his pasta, cleaned his plate in the kitchen sink, and headed upstairs to grab his Flash suit and tuck it into a backpack.

He did find himself pausing, his stomach rolling uneasily, at the thought of talking to Cisco again, but Barry couldn't avoid his team, nor did he really want to. He could only hope that Cisco had come to his senses after their conversation this morning.

Barry took a bit of a detour on his way to the labs, stopping by Jitters to pick up some coffees for everyone, though he deliberately did _not_ order himself a Captain Cold today, not wanting to give his friend any more ammunition for his outrageous claims. Barry picked a Pied Piper for Cisco again, but he wasn’t sure what Caitlin might like, so he ordered both a Peek-a-Boo and a Top, deciding that he’d have whichever one Caitlin didn’t want. He also bought some freshly baked cronuts to go with them and then sped on over to STAR Labs.

His friends were sitting happily in the cortex when he arrived, working behind their computers. Barry gave Cisco a suspicious look as he handed over the black forest frappe, and Cisco grinned slyly back at him, which did nothing to ease Barry’s worry.

Caitlin picked the Top’s signature matcha green tea frappe, leaving Barry with the cup of chocolate flavoured coffee and vanilla bean ice cream that was named after Shawna’s alter ego.

“No Captain Cold?” Caitlin asked while picking out a cronut from the box. Barry tried to shrug the casual comment off, laughing nervously, not quite sure whether or not he should mention Cisco’s bizarre theory to Caitlin. But, as it turned out, he didn’t have to. “You’re going to hurt your boyfriend’s feelings, acting like that.”

"Caitlin, not you too!" Barry whined. Where were his friends even getting this from? It was pure lunacy to think that Leonard Snart would ever be interested in dating Barry Allen!

And, obviously, the reverse was true too.

Barry and Len… they were friends, good friends, but anything more could never work. Honestly, it wasn’t even worth considering.

“We’re not dating,” Barry insisted, and Cisco snorted, laughing directly into his drink and having to wipe his mouth of whipped cream before he could speak.

“ _Riiiight_. That’s why you spent all of yesterday by Snart’s bedside.”

“He’s my friend!” Barry defended himself.

“You slept on the chair, Dude,” Cisco countered. But that didn’t _mean_ what Cisco was suggesting it meant. Len had been pretty out of it yesterday, he’d needed someone there to look out for him, to keep him from doing anything which might make his injury worse, to talk to him when he woke up.

Really.

That was it.

When Barry said this, however, Caitlin shook her head.

“I’m the doctor, and I offered to be the one to stay,” she reminded him. And okay, yeah, that was true. But Caitlin hadn’t _wanted_ to stay the night, she’d wanted to go back home with her husband to sleep. But Barry _had_ wanted to stay because… because Len was his friend.

“Oh, come on, Barry, we all know you caught a _cold_ here,” Cisco said, and Barry groaned in annoyance, but Caitlin seemed to find it hilarious.

“Snart really _stole_ his heart, huh?” She added, and Barry gaped at her in betrayal.

“And Barry _melted_ his in return.”

“This is ridiculous…” Barry muttered, face-palming, but that only seemed to encourage them as they continued to bounce between one another with horrible pun after horrible pun. Barry was only glad to know Len wasn’t here to see it; he’d probably get a kick out of the whole situation and end up joining in.

“Don’t go getting _cold feet_ on this, Dude,” Cisco said. “You’re perfect together, the fast and the furious.”

“Does he give you _chills_?”

“I guess it’s true what they say, winter _is_ coming. For Barry, at least.”

“Can we just forget about this and move on?” Barry begged. “Please?” Maybe it was the tone of his voice that finally caught their attention, but Cait and Cisco seemed to have realised they’d taken this joke too far because, after a second, Caitlin smiled warmly and nodded.

“Already forgotten,” she promised, and Barry just hoped that were true.

[] [] []

If Barry thought that his team would be the only ones to mistake himself and Len for a couple, he was sorely mistaken. Though, this time… he guessed he kind of deserved it.

The rest of Sunday had gone on without so much as a hiccup, though they hadn’t made much leeway where Fries was concerned, and Barry was back at work on Monday. But it was a slow day which seemed to endlessly drag on and on, only made worse by his unease. At several points throughout his work shift, Barry picked up his phone and typed out a text to Len to make sure he was okay, but then the conversation he’d had with Cisco and Caitlin yesterday would pop into the forefront of his mind, and it put Barry off ever actually pressing send.

But he wasn’t dating Len, no matter what his team thought.

They were just friends.

And Barry was allowed to be concerned for his friends, okay! Especially when said friend had a bit of a streak of not properly looking out for himself. Like… Like Len had _literally_ thrown himself out of a moving train back when they’d first met. So, yeah, Barry was allowed to worry about him!

Still, he never quite got around to sending that text.

When he finished work for the day, Barry went straight to Jitters, picking up a coffee to settle his fried nerves. He ordered himself a Captain Cold. But not because it was _Len’s_ drink. No, he just really liked blueberries. Plus, he needed the sugar hit, and wouldn’t mind something refreshing to cool himself down on the hot summer afternoon. Barry’s first reaction to that unintentional pun was to laugh – sure that Len would be proud – but then he was reminded vividly of the pun-war Cisco and Cait had shared the previous day, which was… not ideal…

And now Barry was in two minds about whether he should cringe or smile.

The barista handed him his drink, and Barry immediately took a sip of it before he left the coffee shop and made to run home.

Except, somehow, his legs carried him to Len’s house instead. And… well… since he was already here, it would be just rude not to knock on and see how Len was doing…

Barry surged up the porch steps without really stopping to think and knocked on his friend’s door, though he had to wait a little longer than he was entirely comfortable with before Len opened it. Barry’s first instinctual feeling when he saw his friend again was relief. But then he looked a little closer, time stilling around him as he took a few moments to really examine Len’s appearance.

He was tired, that much was evident from the get-go by the reddening around his eyes. But Len also looked a little flushed, too, and Barry dreaded to think what that meant about his fever. Or, even worse, perhaps the colour clinging to Len’s skin was a result of the pain he was in? Barry didn’t like that thought one bit.

And was he imagining things, or was Len clinging onto the door a little too tightly?

Barry tried not to fret too much as he swallowed thickly and put on a smile, letting the world speed up again.

“Coffee again, Barry?” Len drawled instead of saying hello, and Barry laughed. It wasn’t exactly an easy-going laugh, but he was comforted slightly to hear Len at least sounded better than he looked.

“This is actually for you,” Barry lied, trying not to show how on edge he was about Len’s condition. Len glanced down at the plastic cup in Barry’s hand, almost looking as though he was considering taking Barry up on the offer, which Barry selfishly hoped wasn’t right.

“I'll pass,” Len said, releasing his vice-like hold on the door to push it open and let Barry inside. “I thought the idea of giving you my number was so that you _didn’t_ show up at my home uninvited,” Len reminded him as Barry stepped past the threshold, though his voice had that teasing lilt to it, so Barry knew he wasn’t actually annoyed.

Barry shrugged that off easily with: “I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Len drawled, smirking as he closed the door and turned to walk – or, more accurately, _limp_ – further into the house. Barry watched him go, unsettled by how stiffly Len moved and by just how much he was favouring his right leg at the moment. Barry took a sip of his iced coffee to keep his mouth occupied so that he wouldn’t do something stupid like offer Len some help, sure that his friend wouldn’t take too kindly to that, no matter how good Barry’s intentions might be.

Needing a distraction, Barry cast his gaze around Len’s living room. He’d been to this house a few times now over the past two weeks, but Barry had never really had the opportunity to take in any of Len’s living room until now. So, that was what he did as he followed Len towards the sofa.

It was still a bit of a shock to see that he lived in such a nicely decorated place; Barry didn’t know why, but he’d initially expected Len to be living out of a suitcase, so the home filled with books, and equipment, photos, and even a few knickknacks had been a bit of a shock to his system at first. Maybe it was because Len travelled around so much, or used to, which had made Barry think he wouldn’t really have anywhere that could be described as a home. But this house was surprisingly welcoming and the kind of place that Barry could imagine someone actually living a life in.

And it suited Len, too. Even though the Leonard Snart that most people thought of was a hardened criminal turned mob boss, the Len that Barry knew was actually a bit of a geek, and his décor proved that. There was even a replica lightsabre prop resting on top the mantle! And Barry thought that if Cisco ever found out about that, his head might just implode…

As Barry’s eyes swept the room some more, they caught onto the pack of bandages resting on the coffee table. Barry had given them to Len yesterday morning when he’d passed on Caitlin's instructions to change the dressing regularly. But Barry couldn’t help noticing that the pack hadn’t even been opened yet.

“Have you not changed your dressing?” Barry asked, and Len shrugged.

“I took it off,” he said like it was no big deal. And _this_ was precisely why Barry had every right to worry about Len.

“You’re supposed to be keeping the area covered!” Barry protested, putting his drink down onto the table and picking the bandages up instead. He opened the pack up and took one of the bandages out. “Sit down,” Barry ordered, and Len raised an eyebrow in response which prompted Barry to blush as he remembered where, exactly, Len’s frostbite was. He also couldn't help but remember his friend's aversion to wearing underwear...

But goddammit, if Len wasn’t going to look after himself, then Barry was just going to have to do that for him.

“Barry, I can put a bandage on by myself.”

“And yet, you haven’t,” Barry said, his resolve unwavering. Len stared him down, but Barry was not going to give up until he knew that Len was looking after himself properly. They stayed like that, silently staring at each other for a few more seconds before Len sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he muttered, and Barry had a moment of ease before it was instantly washed away by nerves as Len’s hands found the zipper on his jeans. Barry started blushing and spluttering out that he could go put on a pair of shorts first. But it was a useless worry, in the end, as it seemed that Len was actually wearing briefs this time around. Barry sighed in relief, awkwardly averting his gaze as Len allowed his jeans to drop to the floor before he sat down on the nearest armchair.

By the time Barry managed to make eye contact again, Len looked highly amused, almost as though he’d heard Cisco’s ridiculous claims yesterday too and knew exactly what was going through Barry’s mind right then.

But Cisco was _wrong_ , obviously; there was nothing romantic going on between Barry and Len. They were just friends, and this was just one friend redressing another friend’s injury. There was nothing romantic or sexual about that!

Barry squared his jaw and stepped forward, unravelling a bit of the bandage as he moved closer to where Len sat, waiting. Barry kept his eyes where they were needed, not letting them wander around even a little bit as he bent down to begin dressing the wound. Though maybe Len was right and it really wasn’t a big deal? Because the skin was undoubtedly red and bruised, and there was a handful of blisters covering the area, but it was nowhere near as bad as Barry had been expecting.

Still, doctor’s orders were to keep it bandaged for the time being, so that was what they would do. Barry would come back here and redress it himself every damn day if that was what it took.

After a few seconds, Barry dropped down into a kneeling position instead, realising that bending down wasn’t doing much good or making this any less awkward. He worked in silence, passing the dressing from one hand to another as he wrapped it around Len’s thigh, using his free hand to move Len’s leg as and when needed.

Barry couldn’t help but notice how warm Len’s skin was whenever Barry’s fingers brushed against it and he didn’t quite know what to do with that, so he just kept on working in silence.

At one point, he heard Len’s breathing stutter, and an apologetic smile tugged at Barry’s lips as he realised that he must have pressed too hard on a sensitive area. Barry took extra care after that, slowing his movements a little to ensure he wasn’t causing Len any pain.

It took a few minutes, but once Barry was finally done, he sat back on his knees and let out the breath he’d been unintentionally holding, pleased to have the whole thing over with. Smiling, Barry looked up at Len and opened his mouth to speak, but as their eyes connected, the words got lost on his tongue.

Something sparked between himself and Len at that moment, something which Barry didn’t quite have a name for. He felt frozen, finding it suddenly very difficult to pull away and stand back up.

The moment stretched on for another second as Len’s stunning blue eyes stared into Barry’s.

And just when it looked like Len was going to say something, there was the distinct noise of someone opening the front door. Barry’s head shot up, and he made eye contact with a bewildered Lisa Snart standing in Len’s doorway.

Lisa took one look at them - with Barry on his knees in front of Len, who was sitting there with his jeans pulled down to his ankles - and she instantly turned back around and left without even a word.

“I was just… redressing his leg!” Barry shouted after her, stumbling over his words as he did so, while he jumped to his feet. Len, on the other hand, only snorted out a short laugh. Barry glared down at him, but the older man rolled his eyes and started tugging his jeans back up.

“Don’t worry, Kid,” Len said, but Barry was shaking his head, averting his gaze and blushing furiously.

“She thinks…”

“I know what she thinks,” Len said, laughing again as though it were insane. Which it _was_.

Barry wished that he could just laugh it off too, but that wasn’t in his nature and he _really_ didn’t want to suffer through yet another awkward explanation of how he _wasn’t having sex with Captain Cold_!

“You’ll set her right?” Barry asked, suddenly finding the subtle swirling pattern on the carpeted floor fascinating as he rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck. Len didn’t speak for a while, and so Barry’s eyes slowly drifted back to his friend’s face.

After another moment passed, Len nodded.

“I’ll speak to her,” Len reassured him, and Barry nodded his thanks.

Honestly, he didn’t even know how this was his life anymore…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barry’s progress may be slow, but he is still making progress. We’ll get there soon. I promise!


	14. Chapter 14

Barry left not long after the incident which Len was trying carefully not to put a name to, and Len knew that he should go and speak to his sister right away, but he couldn’t find the will to do that just yet. Barry had wanted Len to put Lisa right about what she'd seen, though Len wasn't so sure he should be correcting his sister about this one, thinking that it did well to keep his and Barry's cover from being blown. Though Barry didn't seem to see it that way, and he'd looked simply mortified by Lisa's assumptions.

Len supposed he could understand that reaction considering how easily embarrassed Barry was. Still, he wasn’t so eager to have this particular conversation with Lisa. The issue was, she knew all of Len’s tells, she knew when he was lying, which was why Len had so deliberately been avoiding the topic of Barry whenever it came up around her.

But now he was stuck between a proverbial rock and a hard place.

He couldn't tell his sister the whole truth of the matter, couldn't tell her that his and Barry's relationship was just a ruse to keep the Rogues from asking questions and uncovering Barry's identity as the Flash. But if Len brought Barry up at all, she would surely realise that he was holding something back.

Though, maybe…

Maybe Len’s feelings for Barry weren’t quite as much of a lie as he had initially thought…

Because last night had been… unexpected.

It had started just fine: he’d been teasing Barry, as normal, watching him get all flustered and embarrassed. It had been fun, but Len had meant nothing by it.

Or, at least, Len hadn’t _thought_ he’d meant anything by it.

Now he was less sure.

Len had realised he’d gotten comfortable around Barry lately, comfortable enough that he never thought twice about how he acted when they were together anymore. Typically, even the most casual of touches from anyone except Mick or Lisa would make Len want to recoil, but he hadn’t felt that way with Barry last night. Hadn’t felt that way with Barry since… Len didn’t even know how long, actually. Because Barry had been holding Len close and running him all around the city all week, and yet that hadn’t felt wrong. Nor had it felt wrong when Len gave Barry a lift to Saints and Sinners last Thursday, with Barry plastered against his back as they rode. It also hadn’t felt wrong last night to let Barry touch his leg, soft and gentle, warm hands caressing Len’s thigh as he’d bandaged it up.

And it wouldn’t have felt wrong for Len to have leant in a little closer and pressed his lips against Barry’s either.

Len wasn't sure if he would have done it… if he would have kissed Barry. He'd wanted to. _God_ , had he wanted to – and he was able to admit to himself now that last night hadn’t been the first time he’d wanted that, either – but Len knew that it wasn't something which he could take back, not with Barry, anyway. With some people, a kiss was just a kiss. But when it came to Barry Allen, Len got the feeling that a kiss meant something much more. And Len couldn't do that...

Not when he had no idea how he really felt.

He didn't want to hurt Barry, didn't want to lead him on, didn't want to kiss him if he didn't mean it.

Because, that was just the thing, Len didn’t know if he _did_ mean it. He cared for Barry, he did, and he wasn’t about to go denying that, but Len hadn’t had much time to think on how deep that went. And now…

He just didn’t know.

Up until last night, Len had been telling himself that his feelings towards Barry were nothing different to the ones he held for Mick or Lisa; that it was just familial, amicable, comradely.

But, after what had happened – had nearly happened – Len wasn’t so sure anymore.

That desire he’d felt strumming through his veins last night as he’d looked into Barry’s shining green eyes… had that been real? Or had it just been brought on by the relationship they were pretending to be in whenever the Rogues were around? Len couldn’t deny that it had felt good to be with someone again, even if it was all just a lie for the sake of Barry’s identity. So, what if that was all this was? What if Len’s feelings were as fake as their relationship? What if Len made his move on Barry now, but this electricity between them only sizzled out with time?

Len liked Barry, he didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to make everything awkward between them just because he was too selfish to take a step back and think things over.

But then, of course, there was another option to consider… it wasn’t just all or nothing here. There was a genuine possibility that Len _did_ want Barry Allen. Wanted to claim him, to dominate him, to push him against a wall and take what he needed; but perhaps that was all it was, a challenge, a desire, a yearning to use and be used in return.

Perhaps it was all just physical.

Len didn’t think he would mind if that were the case, wouldn’t mind spending his nights wrapped up with Barry Allen and his days in a casual comradeship. He wouldn’t mind if that was all this was, but he’d need to figure that out sooner rather than later.

Before anything happened, Len needed to know whether his feelings for Barry were real; was this all just some weird aftereffect from pretending to be in a relationship? Was it just lust? Or did Len have genuine romantic affection for the Flash?

It was confusing, and perhaps a little frightening, to not know how he felt. Len didn’t like it, didn’t like the way it twisted in his gut and pounded against his chest. He didn’t have an answer to any of his questions, so he did the only thing he could do: he ignored them.

Admittedly, Len wasn’t proud of that approach, nor was he able to pretend that it made any sense to just bottle his feelings up and pretend they didn’t exist, especially not when his whole justification for not acting on them was because he didn’t understand them yet.

However, sometimes even the soundest logic couldn’t stop you from burying your head in the sand.

So, Len spent all Monday evening ignoring the giant purple elephant in the room, he even took a few pain killers before he went to sleep and followed them with a shot of whiskey until he had a sound and dreamless 12-hour nap. Afterwards, Len bided his time all morning until he was positive that he was suffering no ill-effects from his self-induced black-out, and then he finally bit the bullet and went to see his sister.

Len did his best to keep all thoughts of Barry Allen out of his mind as he climbed on the back of his motorcycle – after all, it wasn’t good practice to have such heavy thoughts running through your head when you were driving – and waited for his garage door to open. He thought it would be a harder task, but the way his injured leg spiked with a sharp and angry pain whenever he put too much pressure on it, made it easy to forget everything but the agony of his wound. Thankfully, once fully seated on the bike, his pain began to dull again, which was a welcome surprise.

Today was the first time Len had ridden his bike since Mr Freeze took out his leg, and it was undoubtedly uncomfortable but, as Len pulled out of his garage and onto the road, he found that it was a mostly painless experience, which was good; Len wasn't the kind of man who enjoyed taking time off. He always needed a goal, a job, a plan, something to keep his mind sharp. If he was housebound now, he was sure he'd go insane.

But, thankfully, Len didn’t need to worry about that as he pulled out of his street and onto the main road. Usually, he was a ‘ _quick on the gas and harsh on the breaks_ ’ kind of driver. But not today. Today, he took his time and enjoyed the short trip.

It was cool out this morning, a little overcast with a slight breeze, which Len was enjoying much better than he’d liked the blistering heat of the last two weeks. It was only late July, though, meaning that summer was still very much here to stay for a few more months, and so Len had to take solace in these more temperate days and make the most of them when they came. He thought about that as he rode, and he thought about the road ahead, and he _did not_ think about Barry as he zipped through streets and made his way towards the waterfront and the four-story building which Lisa owned – under a fake name, of course.

It was a relatively large apartment block, and it initially housed twelve decent-sized apartments. Not anymore, though. Lisa rented out most of the flats; however, she had taken four of the ones which overlooked the river and converted them into one sizeable multi-story apartment of her own. It was a bit lavish for Len’s taste, but he could understand why it made his sister happy to live somewhere where she had all the space in the world since her whole childhood had been the exact opposite.

Len had at least grown up in actual houses as a kid. At first, it had been Lewis’ rundown shackle of a house, sure, but that had been fine enough for a five-year-old. And then he’d moved in with his Grandfather for a few years while Lewis was serving his sentence in Iron Heights. When he got out of prison, though, that all changed.

By the time that Lisa came around, Lewis had cut all remaining ties with their Grandfather, and they were all squeezed into a little windowless apartment. Still, that was better than sleeping in neglected motel rooms, squatting in abandoned buildings which were too cold and damp to expand out into more than one room, or squeezing inside whatever shoebox apartment Len could afford the rent to – which were exactly the kinds of places where Len and Lisa had found themselves after they’d ran away from their father. They’d even spent an entire two months living out of a stolen van at one point.

It hadn’t _all_ been bad, though. Occasionally, Len would have made some good money, and they’d have been able to afford a decent place to live for a while, and sometimes they would crash at their Grandfather’s house, too, but Lewis had been able to track them down there too quickly, so they could never stay long. However, in the long run, the good memories were, unfortunately, few and far between.

Len had been a teenager at the time, but Lisa was still only a kid when they’d run away, and it wasn’t until after she’d turned sixteen that Len had started making an actual living as a thief and they’d been able to find somewhere decent to live. And maybe that was why Lisa had always dreamt of buying herself a larger house than she could possibly know what to do with? Why she’d clung onto that dream as she grew up, and why she’d leapt at the chance to live out her fantasy the second that she had enough money to her name?

Len could understand that.

Her apartment was about half an hour away from Len’s house, yet it felt significantly longer before Len pulled his bike up at the curb in front of Lisa's apartment and cut the engine. She must have heard his arrival because, by the time Len had stood from his bike, she was there opening the door and giving him the kind of unimpressed look that could rival even Barry's.

Len tried to hide his limp a little better in response, taking slower, more careful steps, and walking more on the balls of his feet as he went, but it didn’t do anything to ease Lisa’s frown.

“You really think you should be riding your bike in your condition?” she asked, shaking her head as Len got closer. She pushed the door open and waited for him to walk through before shutting it soundly behind him.

“I was fine,” Len said. For the record, it was true. However, he probably wouldn’t have said anything to the contrary even if he had felt unstable on the drive in, so he didn’t blame Lisa for not immediately believing his answer.

Len moved to sit on his sister’s couch, relieved to take the pressure off his leg again, but already knowing that getting up afterwards would be painful, considering how soft and lowdown the sofa was. The one on the third floor was nicer and firmer, but Len didn’t want to attempt the stairs.

“Why are you here?” Lisa asked as she took a seat beside her brother. “Not that I don’t love you, but I think I saw far too much of you yesterday.” Her words were only playful, teasing, but they made Len want to cringe as thoughts of Barry Allen once again flooded his mind. Thoughts which Len was still no closer to having an answer to.

Instead of focusing on that, though, he smirked and rolled his eyes.

“Stop exaggerating,” he drawled.

“I’m not exaggerating, I honestly want to scoop my eyes out of my skull with a spoon so that I never have to see anything like that ever again.”

“You saw nothing,” Len said, “because nothing happened.”

“Lenny, what you and your boyfriend do behind closed doors is none of my business,” Lisa said, looking like she would very much like to have a glass – or bottle – of whisky in her hand right about now. “I just wished you’d give a girl some warning. Try putting a sock on the door handle next time.”

“Lisa…”

“Or maybe _don’t_ have sex in your living room when you know that I’m on my way over. That would be a welcome change.”

“Lisa.”

“Not that I aren’t thrilled that you’re finally getting some,” she laughed, continuing to ignore the warning in Len’s voice. “Honestly, Barry’s a cutie pie, and he’s good for you-”

“ _Lisa_!”

“What?” Lisa demanded, and Len felt guilty for snapping at her. He hadn’t meant to, he hadn’t _planned_ to, but Lisa’s words were hitting a little too close to home right now, and Len _really_ didn’t need any more reason to think about Barry Allen like that. Len sighed, trying to calm himself down and shake off any lingering stress.

“You’ll be relieved to know you can stop bleaching your eyes clean,” he drawled. “You walked in on nothing. Barry was just changing my bandages.”

“Your bandages?” Lisa spoke as though she didn’t believe him, and Len tried not to let that worry him. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t questioning his pretend relationship with Barry, that she wasn’t _going_ to question it if Len didn’t give her chance to. So he just made eye contact with her and nodded.

“Yes.”

He didn’t say anything else as Lisa stared him down, silently trying to pull the truth from Len now. The playful look in her eyes was beginning to drop, and Len didn’t like where this was going, so he did his best to divert her thought process before her suspicion could take root.

“Now, if you’d shown up a few minutes later, that might have been a different story,” he joked, though it wasn’t _truly_ just a joke, and maybe that was why Lisa’s look of doubt cracked, and she ended up pulling a disgusted face instead.

Len laughed at her reaction, though it felt a little tight on his mouth, and it did nothing to ease the hurricane wreaking havoc inside his chest. But the conversation quickly moved on, and Len continued to do everything he could to forget about his feelings for the Flash.

[] [] []

After the fiasco at Len’s house, Barry had decided against checking up on him again in-person. Not that anything had happened, nor was going to happen, but what Lisa had undoubtedly _thought_ she’d witnessed was embarrassing enough, even without all of the jokes Caitlin and Cisco continued to make about his supposed romantic relationship with Leonard Snart.

It was Tuesday lunchtime now, and the day so far had been long and dull. Barry kept wanting to pick his phone up to check on Len, but he was doing his best to resist that urge. He _did_ have a life outside of Leonard Snart, after all, and Barry needed to start living it again. He even planned to have lunch with Iris today to catch up – what with their jobs, Barry's work as the Flash, the weekly Rogues meetings, and Iris' wedding planning taking up all of their time, the two hadn't seen much of each other as of late.

Though, Barry couldn’t help but think maybe that had been for the best. Because, if Iris had been around STAR Labs more this past week then maybe Cisco or Caitlin would have talked her into _also_ believing that Barry was dating Captain Cold...

And Barry was just really glad he didn’t have to deal with that right now.

Unfortunately, their lunch plans fell through once he got a call from Cisco with some new intel on their meta. They’d finally hacked the online files for the company which Victor Fries had been paying big bucks to over the past year for a storage unit, and now Cisco had discovered the exact location of Fries' lock-up.

And so that was how Barry found his way here, in his Flash suit and sneaking into a storage unit on a Tuesday lunchtime, rather than enjoying a Big Belly Burger with Iris at her desk.

Barry phased through the large metal door, biding past the heavy-duty lock to get into the storage unit beyond. It was pitch black in here, but he could hear a whirring of machinery just out of sight. Running his hand along the wall, Barry found a light switch and flipped it on. And what he saw made him feel sick.

There was a woman here, Barry recognised her from photos as the deceased Nora Fries. Her body was just lying there inside a large glass chamber. Barry's first thought was that Fries had killed her.

But then he recognised the chamber for what it was: a cryogenic pod.

She wasn't dead.

Not yet.

Barry moved to the computer in the room, wanting to get as much information as he could before making any rash moves. He used the comms in his Flash suit to fill his team in on what he saw, and Cisco guided him into hacking the computer's password to gain access to the files.

There was a lot of information there, many papers and theories on cryogenic research, along with notes upon notes upon notes for the design of the pod and explaining how it worked. Barry was certainly interested in all of that, but it wasn't what he needed right now. There was one other file, though. It was simply titled _'Nora_ '.

Barry clicked on it, finding Victor Fries' meticulous notes on his wife's rare genetic disorder, and how she'd failed to respond to a single treatment.

Nora had been about to die, but her husband wouldn’t have it. He'd built the chamber for her, to keep her alive while they waited for new treatment options that might allow her to live until a ripe old age.

And now, Barry understood. This was it, this was why the unit was costing Fries so much, why he'd turned to crime to cover the bills, why he was so desperate for cash. Barry could only imagine how much energy it took to run a fully functioning cryogenic system.

And now, with Fries' bank account having long ago run dry, the storage company was surely going to turn off the power, which would kill Nora Fries...

Barry knew instantly what he had to do.

Victor Fries was due to be transported out of the precinct to Iron Heights today, but that wouldn’t be until the afternoon. Right now, the man was sitting inside a holding cell, and so that was where Barry ran to, racing through to precinct until he was standing on the outside of Fries’ cell, the room empty but for the two of them.

Fries had been sitting there, silently, but now he jumped to his feet to glare at the Flash.

“Victor Fries,” Barry said, vibrating his voice as he was all too aware of the cameras in this room, and he could do _without_ the cops in his precinct recognising his voice. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Fries spat out, though he didn’t sit down or make any move to ignore the Flash now that he was here. Barry just nodded.

“I know,” he said. “And I know why you did what you did. It was for your wife.” Fries’ actions had been that of a desperate man, and Barry could understand that. He’d been desperate before too, desperate enough that he was willing to put other people in danger to save the ones he loved. “But that doesn’t make it right.”

“Sounds like you’ve never been married, Flash,” Fries said, walking closer to the bars that separated the two of them, the metahuman cuffs clearly on show now and stopping him from using his powers to break free. “Nora was my everything. There is no right and wrong when it comes to saving someone you love.”

“The men you killed had families too.” It wasn’t meant as an argument or judgement, only a reminder. But Barry could see the regret clear in Fries’ eyes before he dropped his gaze to the floor, and that only reinforced Barry’s resolve.

“I didn’t mean to hurt them,” Fries admitted mournfully. “I lost control. But they’re gone now, and there’s nothing I can do about that.” Fries lifted his head to look Barry in the eyes again. “But my wife, my Nora, she’s still alive. And if I don’t find a way to pay my bills, then they’ll pull the plug. They’ll kill _her_.”

“No, they won’t,” Barry vowed. “I’m taking it out of their hands. I have a team of scientists who want to help.” Fries tensed, staring at Barry, at the Flash, with wide eyes and looking as though he didn’t dare to believe him. “We’re moving Nora to our own facility, and they’ll look after her. They’ll do everything that they can, I promise.” Fries let out a breath, looking as though he’d been holding it all year and was finally able to breathe again. He was shaking, tears welling in his eyes.

Barry didn’t know whether they could save Fries’ wife, but they could, at the very least, stop anyone from pulling the plug on her.

“Where?” Fries asked, his voice cracking, but Barry shook his head. He couldn’t tell Fries that, couldn’t risk putting Caitlin and Cisco and Stein in danger.

“I’ll tell you that once you’re out of here,” Barry promised. He didn’t know how long that would be, it could be months until Fries even went to trial, and his sentence would undeniably last years, but that was the best answer that Barry could give now, and Fries seemed to accept it.

Afterwards, Barry returned to STAR Labs to change and fill his team in on his decision, having just enough time to run to Big Belly Burger for a bite to eat before he was due back in the lab again. When Barry was waiting in the queue for his food, he took his phone out to pass the time, finding a text waiting for him.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_12:19 pm  
_ Spoke to Lisa, everything has been cleared up.**

That, at least, helped to relieve some of Barry’s anxiety. Neither Cait nor Cisco had said anything to Barry about Len today, but Barry got the feeling that they still didn’t quite believe him when he told them they were only friends, and Barry could really do without anyone else jumping on that bandwagon.

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:03 pm  
_ Thank you.**

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:03 pm  
_ How are you today?**

Barry didn’t have long to wait for a reply, which he was grateful for. He didn’t quite like the idea of going to check up on Len in-person anymore – still feeling too embarrassed to really give it any consideration – but Barry knew Leonard Snart well, and that was the problem. He didn’t think he could trust Len to look after himself without Barry there to remind him to bathe and bandage his leg daily.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:04 pm  
_ I’m fine, Barry. You don’t need to keep checking in.**

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:04 pm  
_ Maybe not, but I want to.**

Barry sent that text off and then, because he couldn’t help himself, he wrote up and sent another one too.

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:04 pm  
_ You haven’t taken your bandage off again, have you?**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:04 pm  
_ Of course not**

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:05 pm  
_ Yeah, no, I’m going to need to see proof of that.**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:05 pm  
_ Are you asking for nudes, Barry?**

Barry started choking on his own spit then, coughing loudly and smiling apologetically at the other customers in Big Belly Burger as they all turned to stare at him, though he couldn’t _quite_ make out their unimpressed expressions through the tears building in his eyes. Once Barry could breathe again properly, he sent Len another text.

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:06 pm  
_ Very funny.**

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:07 pm  
_ I just want to make sure you’re looking after yourself. Don’t think I won’t come down there again**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:07 pm  
_ Then what? You’ll punish me?**

Barry had been expecting Len’s taunt this time, so it didn’t pull quite the same reaction out of him. Instead, he just rolled his eyes.

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:07 pm  
_ If I have to.**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:07 pm  
_ Kinky**

Barry snorted a laugh at that, but before he could type out a reply, he got another text.

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:08 pm  
_ You don’t need to worry about me. I’m doing fine.**

Barry’s order number was called then so he moved to grab his lunch of three double cheeseburger meals and a large portion of chicken nuggets from the counter. He knew he was going to be late back to the precinct, but he took an extra minute to keep texting Len while he left the building, rather than zipping off again immediately once he was out of sight.

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:09 pm  
_ Do you promise you’re looking after yourself?**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:09 pm  
_ I pinkie swear. **

To: **_Len_  
** Sent: **_13:10 pm  
_ I’ll have you know that I hold pinkie swears with the highest esteem, so you better not break it.**

NEW MESSAGE From: **_Len_**  
Received: **_13:10 pm  
_ Wouldn’t dream of it. **

Barry waited until he got that last text and was finally appeased with Len’s answer before he ran off, back to work to eat his lunch at his desk.

[] [] []

“All this has taught me is that it needs to be raining before they can kiss,” Cisco said around the popcorn in his mouth as they continued their RomCom movie marathon. It had been Caitlin’s idea, to give them a bit of inspiration after being unable to come up with any plans to get Barry and Snart together. However, three films in and now Cisco was having doubts about their so-called research material. “And since it's mid-summer, I am foreseeing an issue here.”

“There are other things to take away from this,” Caitlin argued, but Cisco had his suspicions about the real reason she wanted to watch these films as she didn’t even take her eyes off of the onscreen kiss to look Cisco’s way as she spoke.

“Right,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “I guess we could always get Snart engaged or something so that Barry could interrupt the wedding.” Caitlin finally looked at him now, glaring, but Cisco kept his face innocent, pretending that the suggestion was one hundred percent genuine.

“I think that’s a bit counterproductive.”

“What if we put him on a flight out of the country so that Barry can chase after the plane with a heartfelt love confession?”

“Cisco…”

“Question: neither of them wears glasses, so who do we give the make-over to?”

“Would you take this seriously?” Caitlin demanded, and Cisco rolled his eyes, wondering how, exactly, any of this could be taken seriously.

“Well, come on, what’s your brilliant idea?” Cisco asked, and Caitlin mulled that over for a while before answering.

“We could send Barry some flowers anonymously.”

“That’s weak.”

“It’s romantic!”

“If the flowers are anonymous, why would he think they’re from Snart?” Captain Cold didn’t exactly come across as a flower kind of guy.

“I don’t know… we’ll make sure they’re blue and red, or something.”

“Pass,” Cisco muttered, grabbing another handful of popcorn, and chewing on it while he thought. “Let’s just kidnap him.”

“Barry?!”

“Snart,” Cisco corrected, horrified by Cait’s assumption that he would kidnap their _friend_. “Barry will get all worried and have no choice but to face his feelings.”

“You want to kidnap _Captain Cold?_ ” Caitlin repeated, as though it was the worst plan she could possibly imagine. And, yeah, maybe if Snart was full strength it would be basically signing your own death warrant. But the guy was injured right now. Cisco could take him.

Probably.

And, anyway, it served the jerk right for kidnapping the both of them…

“On second thought,” Cisco said as he thought a little deeper into his plan, “it’s entirely possible that I only suggested that because I wanted a bit of payback.”

“You don’t say,” Caitlin murmured under her breath, rolling her eyes and glancing momentarily back at the screen as the film played out its final scene. The song must have caught her attention because her eyes immediately lit up, and she quickly turned back to face Cisco "Why don’t we just play love songs around Barry all the time?"

Cisco could only groan, dropping his head into his hands: "You're thinking too small."

"You're thinking too big!" Caitlin argued back. Clearly, they were getting nowhere. "Just put the next film on," she sighed, and Cisco picked up his phone to see what the next movie was supposed to be, shaking his head instantly upon reading the title.

"Uh, nope, the next one on the list is ‘ _The Proposal_ ,’ and I can tell you right now that fake dating isn't going to work. How would we even get them to agree to that?"

Cait dropped her head into her hands, and Cisco sat back with a mouthful of popcorn as he waited for her verdict.

"Let's just get Barry drunk," she finally said, and Cisco grinned.

"Finally! Alcohol!” he cheered. “Something we can agree on."

[] [] []

Barry had been busy all Wednesday as he and his team came up with and executed a plan to safely move Nora Fries from the storage lock-up to STAR Labs without running the risk of cutting the power to the machine. Fries had created it with a backup generator that could last up to 24 hours, but they didn’t want to risk relying on that in case something went wrong.

Unfortunately, Barry had no way of contacting Fries anymore, not now that he’d been transported to Iron Heights. The whole metahuman wing of the prison was surrounded by a power dampening field to ensure no one could use their powers to get in or out. Not even the Flash.

Barry didn’t like the idea of leaving Fries alone without anyone there to answer his questions about his wife’s condition, so they were considering different ways to get a message passed on to him.

But that would have to wait because now it was nearly nine o’clock on Thursday night, and Barry had a Rogues meeting to attend.

Caitlin noticed him glancing at the clock on the wall and started smiling. Barry knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth to speak.

“Haven’t you got a date to get ready for?”

“It’s not a date,” Barry sighed.

“Whatever you say, Dude,” Cisco added in, not even bothering to look up from his computer as he spoke.

“It’s not. It’s just…” Barry didn’t know whether he should tell them the truth now, tell them that Len wasn’t the only Rogue he spent time with on his Thursday nights. But they could barely believe that Barry was friends with Captain Cold, a man who had helped them out repeatedly over this past few years, so how would they be able to accept that Heatwave, Weather Wizard, and Rainbow Raider were among people he called his friends now too?

It was a complicated situation, and Barry didn’t know how Cait or Cisco would react, plus he really was going to be late for the meetings, so he didn’t have the time to go into it right now. Barry decided that the conversation could wait just a little longer. Maybe for next week, he would tell his friends the complete truth? Maybe _then_ they wouldn’t be so insistent that Barry and Len were dating?

“I have to go,” Barry said, shaking his head and ignoring Cisco’s smug look as he quickly left the cortex.

When he arrived at Saints and Sinners, everyone was already there, gathered around the table and laughing amongst themselves as they waited for him to show.

“For the last time, Mardon,” Lisa said as Barry approached, her voice was loud and authoritative, but she was grinning along with the rest of them. “We’re not robbing a coffee shop just because they didn’t include you on their drinks menu.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Mark said. “It’s about reminding the people of this city that we’re more than just a gimmick. Jitters are making money off of our names, shouldn’t we be making an example of them?”

“No,” Hartley corrected. “They’re making money off of _our_ names, not yours.” He had a shit-eating grin as he said it, like he was just daring Mark to start throwing punches. “So sit your tight ass down and relax. Have a drink.”

“What a great idea,” Shawna agreed, instantly grabbing Hartley’s drink out of his hands and downing it in one go. She pushed the glass back to him and smiled. “Go get me another, would you?” Hartley looked as though he didn’t know whether to be offended or proud of his friend and that more than anything made Barry laugh, alerting everyone at the table to his presence as he took the last few steps to his seat.

“Want anything from the bar, Barry?” Hartley offered as he stood up with his empty glass in hand. “Apparently, I’m making a drink run.”

“Just a coffee,” Barry said, and Hartley nodded as he retreated to the bar. Barry took his seat, as did Mark Mardon, everyone else was already sitting, including Len, who looked to be in remarkably better health today than he had been the last time Barry saw him.

Barry wanted to ask how he was doing, but he didn’t know whether he should bring it up in front of the Rogues. Maybe if it were just Lisa and Mick, Len wouldn’t mind. But with everyone else there too? Including Sam Scudder and Rosa Dillon, both of whom Len seemed to hate with a passion? Yeah, it probably wasn’t the best idea.

Still, the worry must have been apparent in his gaze because Len soon leant over in his chair, pushing into Barry’s personal space, speaking low and softly into Barry’s ear – his words so quiet that only Barry would be able to hear over the music and the Rogues’ laughter.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” Len drawled, his breath ghosting against Barry’s skin. “People are going to think I’m dying.”

Barry laughed. He didn’t _mean_ to laugh, he didn’t think it was funny, but he was just too nervous to do anything else.

“What’re you love birds whisperin’ about?” Mick grunted, drawing Barry’s attention. He quickly jumped back from where he’d been unconsciously leaning closer to Len, but Len took his time settling himself back down into his own seat again, giving Mick a flat look for the interruption.

“Perhaps Lenny needs his ‘ _bandages fixed_ ’ again,” Lisa drawled, smirking, and Barry dropped his head into his hands as Mick erupted with a booming laugh, clearly having been filled in about the whole mortifying ordeal.

Barry didn’t lift his head again until he felt Hartley hovering beside him, and he looked up to see a drink settled in front of him which was definitely _not_ what he’d asked for.

“What is this?”

“An espresso martini,” Hart answered as though it was obvious, moving back around the table to pass Shawna her tumbler and retake his seat. “You said you wanted coffee; this is the best I could do without feeling like a loser.”

Barry muttered thanks but rolled his eyes at the tease, just _knowing_ it was going to be a long night.

Once Hart was seated again, Len got the table to quiet down enough to do the toast and everyone, Barry included, raised their glass to the Rogues. Afterwards, the team began to split up, Shawna dragged Mark up onto the dance floor, Rosa and Scudder went outside for a smoke, James Jesse and his son started a debate on what the best explosive was, and Roy Bivolo just pulled out a sketchpad and started drawing a very detailed – and slightly concerning – picture of the town hall mid-explosion as he listened in.

At one point, Hartley tried to pull Len aside – probably to get his approval on whatever job he wanted to pull next – but Len dismissed him with a quick “ _We’ll talk about it later_.” So, Hart shrugged and left to start flirting with the cute bartender instead while the remaining Rogues at the table made bets on how _that_ was going to end.

Barry would have considered it a fun night, actually, if Lisa would just stop making jokes about the incident from Monday evening.

For the most part, Barry just bit his tongue and put up with it, knowing that this was just the price he was paying to be friends with the Rogues. They enjoyed teasing each other, and in the long run, it allowed Barry to see the funny side of the situation.

Still, by the 5th “ _oh, Lenny, you look tense. Maybe Barry can ‘change your bandage’ for you_ ” joke, Barry was really beginning to regret not stealing some of the prototype super alcohol from the lab that Caitlin had been working on this week, because he really could have done with an actual drink tonight…

Barry started to consider skipping out a little earlier on the night and was making up an excuse in his head for why he needed to leave, but then he noticed Len brush off the _second_ Rogue to come to him and ask to speak in private, and that was when Barry realised that something was wrong. Because these meetings were more than just a team bonding exercise. Barry had learnt that the Rogues all needed Len’s permission before they could pull a heist, so Len used this time on Thursdays to hear them all out and give his verdict on their plans.

But tonight, Len just didn’t seem interested in that.

So, as Barry watched Len give James Jesse and Axel Walker the same brush-off that he’d given Hartley, he began to worry. After a little thought, Barry realised that Len actually hadn’t moved from his seat once all night. He’d been sitting down when Barry arrived, and he’d stayed sitting down ever since, mulling over the same drink for the past hour.

He was in pain, there was no other explanation for it, and Barry felt bad suddenly for even considering leaving his friend when he was like this. Len was too proud to ask anyone for help and too stubborn to show the rest of his Rogues just how injured he really was, but he clearly needed someone there to look out for him.

Barry chose to stay then, getting up from his seat only to order a bottle of Len’s favourite whisky from the bartender that Hart had spent the past thirty minutes chatting up. It was pricy stuff, but worth it when he placed the bottle down on the table in front of Len and received a smile in return.

“That stuff sucks,” Mick grunted as he looked at the label. “It doesn’t even burn properly.”

“Maybe that’s why I like it,” Len drawled as he poured himself a glass. He offered one to Barry as well, but Barry still had half of his espresso martini left – which, okay, yeah, it actually didn’t taste half bad… not that he was going to tell Hartley that.

It was a further half an hour before Rosa and Sam Scudder showed their faces again. Rosa hung back by the door while Scudder came up to the table, pointedly ignoring everyone and only focussing on Len.

“Snart, a word,” he said, nodding his head back towards where his girlfriend stood, but Len shook his head.

“Not tonight,” he dismissed, just like he’d been doing all night. However, Sam wasn’t as accepting with the brush aside as everyone else had been.

“It’s time-sensitive,” he insisted, but that wasn’t doing him any favours with Len, whose face had dropped down into a tight scowl.

“What is?” Len asked, still not moving, and everyone at the table fell quiet from the grit in Len’s voice, but Scudder wasn’t impressed.

“No, if you think I’m going to spill my plans in front of your cop boyfriend, you’re out of your mind,” Mirror Master spit out, and Barry’s breath hitched at the casual use of the word ‘ _boyfriend_ ’. God, did _everyone_ think he and Len were into each other?!

Len didn’t seem fazed by this, but he was certainly angry that one of his Rogues would dare speak back to him. Barry felt like he was caught in the middle, out of place. It was odd to think he’d never really felt this way before when here at these Rogues meetings, considering his occupation, but Barry didn’t want to get in the way now, so he started to stand.

“I’ll go get a drink,” Barry said as an excuse to leave the table so that the Rogues could talk. But Len just leant over and placed his hand on Barry’s thigh, pressing on tight to keep him in his seat so he couldn’t go anywhere.

“No. Barry, you stay here,” Len said, his voice thick with his drawl, though it was icier than Barry was used to hearing. “Scudder will get you your coffee.” Len turned a tight smile Scudder’s way, but it was sharp and threatening; his eyes dark and, well… _cold_. “Three sugars and a dash of milk,” he commanded, leaving no room for objections.

Scudder glared back, his mouth set into a straight, unhappy line, but he seemed to weigh up his options and eventually turned to walk off in a huff. Rosa Dillon – who had been waiting on the outskirts of the bar area and hadn’t heard a word of their conversation – frowned after her boyfriend and followed him.

“He’s not gonna like that,” Mick warned, but Len only shrugged, his hand falling away from Barry’s thigh as he did so, and Barry felt oddly cold without the warmth of Len’s touch now.

“Nothing new then,” Len said, taking a drink from his glass. “If he’s not happy, he can leave.”

“You know he can’t, Lenny,” Lisa said, her voice quiet but not quite a whisper. “He’s got nowhere else to go.”

“What does that mean?” Barry asked, and the three of them all shared a look which did nothing to settle Barry’s curiosity. “How did you get Scudder to drop his vendetta and join the Rogues?” It was a question that had been bugging Barry for _months_ now, but he hadn’t dared to ask it. He hadn’t wanted to push for information about the Rogues, worried that Len might pull away if he did. But now he just couldn’t hold his questions in any longer.

“Sam came to _us_ ,” Lisa corrected, “not the other way around.” But that… that didn’t make any sense. Scudder had been on a rampage against Len when he’d first shown back up in Central City, looking for payback. Why would he change his mind?

“This city ain’t been the same since the Flash showed up,” Mick grunted, downing the rest of his drink and grinning into the empty glass. “Changed even more after we took out the Santini Crime Family.” Ah, yes, just what Barry needed, a reminder of the mob war that his friends had all started.

Granted, they’d also _ended_ it too. Pretty quickly, actually. It hadn’t taken long for the Santinis to decide they wanted nothing to do with Len and his Rogues. And, back then, it had only been the three of them: Len, Mick, and Lisa, and not a meta in sight. But even then, the new Don Santini didn’t dare to retaliate. He still didn’t, not even when his newest casino had mysteriously gone up in flames a few weeks ago.

“The second that Sam and Rosa declared war on Captain Cold,” Lisa continued, “they suddenly had every single criminal in this city – metahuman or otherwise – on their asses, all competing to be the one to deliver Sam’s head to us on a silver platter.” Barry supposed that made sense. There were a lot of criminals out there who would want to curry favour with the Rogues. “It didn’t take them long to realise this wasn’t a fight they could win.”

“So, they came to us looking to make a deal instead,” Len said, finally speaking up. Barry looked to him now, seeing the stiff set to his shoulders and the blank look in his eyes, like he was just waiting for Barry to get angry and leave.

Barry didn’t know how to tell Len that he wasn’t going anywhere, worried that if he spoke up now, Mick and Lisa would have too many questions. So, instead, Barry turned to deliberately bump his knee against Len’s, doing his best to silently reassure his friend that he still trusted him, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. He thought that Len got the message because, as the seconds passed, his shoulders began to relax again.

It was another minute before Scudder was back, slamming the coffee cup down onto the table in between Barry and Len, making the drink inside slosh out over the rim and onto the wood. Barry moved to grab some napkins from the centre of the table, using them to dab up the mess – knowing that if he didn’t, he’d probably end up leaning on the table later and getting coffee stains all over his shirt sleeves.

“Careful,” Len warned, and Barry lifted his head to see Len and Scudder in a glaring match. “Whether you like it or not, Barry’s here to stay.” Barry felt flush at that comment, and he quickly averted his gaze back to the mess on the table in front of him. “You, on the other hand, are replaceable.” There was a palpable silence, tense and uncomfortable even with the loud music playing from the speakers overhead. “Learn your place, Scudder, or maybe next week you won’t have one.”

Sam and Rosa left then without another word, marching away from the table and pushing the exit open with so much force that the door slammed against the wall behind it. And if any Rogues in the room hadn’t been aware of the confrontation before, they surely knew about it now…

The rest of the meeting was tense, the playful mood long since shattered, and Barry ended up drinking all of his coffee just to give him something to do. It didn’t take much longer before the meeting began to break up and all of the Rogues left, until it was just Barry and Len at the table while the bartender began to clean up.

And Len still hadn’t moved from his seat.

“Do you want a lift home?” Barry offered, but Len just shook his head, too proud for his own good.

“You run along, Scarlet. I’m fine,” Len drawled, but Barry doubted that was true. He stayed put, waiting. Eventually, Len sighed, rolled his eyes, and made to stand up.

His leg immediately gave out on him.

Barry jumped up from his seat, using just a _little_ bit of superspeed so that he could wrap his arms around Len, catching him before he crumbled entirely to the floor.

“I’ve got you,” Barry whispered, as Len clung onto him, his hand bunched into the material of Barry’s shirt while he struggled to get his feet back underneath himself again. “Come on, Len. You don’t have to pretend with me,” Barry insisted, not moving back and keeping his arm tucked under Len’s even after he was confident that Len wasn’t going to fall again. “Let me give you a lift home,” he insisted once more.

Len was gritting his teeth, though Barry wasn’t sure whether it was in pain or annoyance at himself. Barry honestly thought that Len was going to push him away and refuse his offer again. But then he sighed and nodded, letting Barry lead him outside and whisk him safely away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not very happy with this chapter, if I’m honest, but I’m glad to give you a bit more of Len’s POV. There’s not enough of it in this fic, I know, but Barry’s POV is just so much funnier because he is so far in denial that it’s frustratingly comical, whereas Len is a little more open to the idea of them, but just very, very confused about it all. And that is a bit more heart-wrenching for me, which is nice in little splashes, but write too much of it and it just brings the vibe of this whole fic back down from the ridiculous, eye-roll inducing heights that it has been swept up to.


	15. Chapter 15

When Barry woke up on Friday morning, it was with a stiff neck and a dead arm. The sun was streaming in through a crack in the curtains, blinding Barry as he tried to open his eyes. He had to sit up before he could actually see anything. But, even then, it took him a moment to recognise his surroundings, his mind muddled still with sleep. However, there was only one man he knew who had a replica lightsabre prop sat on the mantel in his living room.

Apparently, he had fallen asleep on Len’s couch last night.

Barry didn’t know what was more surprising about that: the fact that he’d slept the whole night through with his face smushed into a leather cushion and his arm thrown over his head, hanging off the end of the sofa… or that Len had for some reason chosen to let Barry _stay_.

And, actually, Barry had a possibly even more dumbfounding question, because had this blanket been here the whole time?

Or had Len draped it over him as he slept?

Barry’s mind was quickly dislodged from that train of thought, though, as his dead arm began to wake up. Pins and needles ran through Barry’s arm and shoulder, racing all the way down the left side of his torso too, as the blood rushed back into the area. He gritted his teeth through it and started vibrating to quicken the process, relieved when it worked and the prickling sensation beneath his skin eased away.

He yawned and stood, stretching and hearing his joints pop and click in response. His phone said that it was just gone 7:30 am, the sun having woken him shortly before his alarm was due to go off. Typically, he would speed through getting ready in the mornings so that he could drop in at STAR Labs before work, but Barry didn’t feel like a trip to the lab this morning. He considered just shutting the curtain a little further and lying down again for a quick nap but, eventually, he sighed and went upstairs to use the bathroom instead.

Afterwards, Barry decided to take a shower, hoping that Len wouldn’t mind, because he really didn’t like the idea of seeing his friend this morning before he’d even had a chance to clean himself up. He stripped out of last night’s clothes, dismayed that he would have to put them on again once he was done, and stepped into Len’s shower.

The water pressure was perfect, just strong enough to wake Barry up, but not so harsh that it made his skin feel numb to stand under the spray for too long. Barry worked soap into his muscles, scrubbing away the grime from the previous night and feeling his whole body ache pleasantly in response. The bodywash Len kept smelt nice against Barry’s skin, earthy and sweet. He realised he’d smelt the scent of this soap before, clinging to Len’s body, though it was diluted enough that he hadn’t truly recognised it until now. Barry inhaled a little deeper, enjoying the rich, woody scent and trying to figure out exactly what that underlying tone was; it smelt a little citrusy, like oranges, but it was warmer than that and not quite as sharp.

Whatever it was, it made Barry feel refreshed and content.

Leonard didn’t have any shampoo, which he supposed made sense since Len kept his hair shorn short, so Barry only rinsed his own hair and hoped that it would do. He thought that he probably would have the time to run back to Joe’s house for shampoo if he really needed to, but it felt wrong to just leave this morning without a word before Len had even woken up.

Barry started frowning then, turning off the shower and zipping out to grab his phone and recheck the time. It was nearly 8 am now, but Len still wasn’t awake yet.

Sure, the guy didn’t exactly have a day job to get to, so it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility for him to still be asleep at 8 on a Friday morning. But…

Well, Barry had been texting Len now for weeks, and he’d often found a message from his friend sitting there on his phone in the morning, sent long before Barry had even stirred from his sleep. So, the fact that Barry had beaten Len to be the first awake today was a little disconcerting.

Barry towelled himself dry and pulled last night’s clothes back on, deciding to check on his friend before he did anything else. There were a few other doors on the landing, and Barry frowned as he looked at all of them, not liking the thought that Len might catch him up here and accuse Barry of snooping.

What if he found something incriminating in one of those rooms? Barry wasn’t going to arrest Len for anything, obviously – not only because of their deal, but also because he just didn’t want to see his friend in prison – but he would still feel obligated to foil any heist which Len may be planning, and coming across his strategies now would just feel like he was cheating… Barry didn’t like that thought, but it was a risk he was just going to have to take as he stepped closer to the first door. He paused as he reached for the handle though, hearing a soft noise coming from inside the room.

Barry strained his ears, trying to listen in closer, not wanting to open the door in case Len was already awake inside and getting dressed. He heard the noise again and frowned, it almost sounded like a whimper. Barry’s stomach hit the floor.

Fearing that his friend was in pain, he tapped lightly on the door.

“Len?” Barry asked, his voice soft and unsure. He only got a groan in response, and so Barry cracked the door open just a little bit, not enough to look inside though. “Len? Is everything okay?” he asked again. Now that the door was open, Barry could hear the moans of pain and panted breaths more clearly, and he was getting worried. “Len?” Barry asked one more time.

When he, once again, received no answer, Barry pushed the door open just a bit more.

The room inside was dark, but Barry could see Len lying on the bed, buried underneath a quilt, and shifting uncomfortably in the midst of what Barry could only assume was a nightmare. For a moment, Barry didn’t know what to do. He figured that Len wouldn’t appreciate him being here for this moment, but he also couldn’t just leave Len like this when he looked to be in so much pain.

Barry had been plagued with nightmares for most of his life, ever since the man in lightning killed his mother. Even as he’d gotten older and defeated that monster of a man, the nightmares never really faded. He knew what it was like to wake up to a dark, empty room. Barry _also_ knew what it was like to wake up to a friendly face, and a caring hand on his shoulder.

He would gladly take the latter any day.

Len let out a short gasp followed by another groan, louder, more guttural than the last, and Barry made up his mind, stepping into the room and moving swiftly to crouch down next to Len’s bed.

“Len?” Barry asked, reaching his hand out and placing it on his friend’s shoulder. This close, he could see a line of sweat clinging to Len’s forehead, and Barry yearned to wipe it away, to wipe away _all_ of Len’s pain. “Len?” Barry tried again, gently shaking Len’s shoulder and hoping that he wasn’t about to get punched in the face for his efforts. “Len, wake up.”

As though on cue, Len gasped awake, his eyes flinging open and immediately locking with Barry’s.

“Barry…” Len said, his voice breathless, and Barry gave him a fond smile.

He kept his voice soft and soothing as he spoke: “It’s okay, it was just a nightmare.”

For a moment, Len only blinked back.

“Nightmare…” Len muttered, shaking his head as though to disperse the lingering images in his brain as he shifted to sit upright on the bed, back against the headboard with the leg closest to Barry propped up at an angle. Len wasn’t meeting Barry’s eyes anymore, and Barry felt nervous, worried that he’d made the wrong decision to come in here now.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Len nodded his head quickly, barely glancing Barry’s way as he spoke.

“Yeah,” he said. “Can you just… just give me a minute?” Barry nodded and stood up, backing out of the room and pulling the door closed behind himself. He hovered there awkwardly on the landing for a moment, unsure what to do and hoping that he hadn’t just overstepped. He supposed there was nothing he could do about that now, though; he only prayed that Len would forgive him for the intrusion.

Barry’s thoughts were diverted to his stomach as hunger began to eat away at him, so he went back downstairs to make them some breakfast while he waited for Len. He wasn’t the best cook in the world – in fact, he was close to awful in the kitchen – but Barry did at least know how to make some pretty awesome pancakes.

Not that he thought pancakes would make a decent enough apology if Len _did_ think Barry had crossed a line today, but at least it was a start.

[] [] []

Len was having a, uh… a _hard_ time this morning.

What Barry had mistaken for a nightmare had, in fact, been an extremely pleasant dream. One involving himself, and Barry, and bandages – though they hadn’t exactly been using them for their intended purposes – and Len bemoaned having to wake up before they’d had the chance to finish. Though thinking on that now was doing neither himself nor his current physical condition any good.

Len took slow, deep breaths and tried to keep his thoughts PG-13 as he sat on his bed, his quilt soft against his naked body. He stayed still and closed his eyes, mentally picturing the most complicated lock he had ever cracked and running through the memory of it in his head, step by step, until he’d unpitched the tent he’d made with his bedsheets.

Mission accomplished, Len got up, made his bed, pulled on some clean clothes, and – once he could put it off no longer – went downstairs to find Barry. He descended the steps slowly, cautiously, his injured thigh feeling stiff from disuse and burning fiercely with every movement that Len made. It had been like this last night too. He hadn’t wanted to get out of his seat and show the Rogues how weak he had become, so when Len finally _had_ attempted to stand again after the meeting was over, his leg had seized and spasmed with pain, unable to carry his weight.

But Barry had been there for Len… like he always was…

The clattering noise of pans and the mouth-watering scent of cooked sausages took Len’s attention as he continued his descent of the stairs and headed directly into the kitchen, the sound of sizzling food reaching his ears now as he pushed the door open.

And there Barry stood, looking sinfully edible.

He was wearing last night’s clothes still, though his feet were entirely bare and the sweater vest had been discarded. The powder blue button-up that Barry had worn underneath was mussed from where he’d slept in it, the top three buttons were left undone and exposed Barry’s collar bone to the open air. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and Len’s eyes lingered on Barry’s forearms, wondering if there was something inherently sexual about that look, or if his arousal was wholly due to the – unfortunately fleeting – dream he had awoken from.

Barry’s wet hair was a floppy mess on top of his head as though inviting Len to run his fingers through it. And the only thing which could have distracted Len from that was the bead of water steadily making its way down the length of Barry’s neck; Len’s eyes followed the droplet as he was overcome with the sudden desire to trace its path with his tongue.

Instead, he cleared his throat.

Barry turned his head to face Len, a grin forming instantly on his soft pink lips

“I thought you couldn’t cook,” Len commented, averting his gaze from Barry’s face to eye the contents of the frying pan suspiciously instead.

“I can’t,” Barry laughed. “Except for breakfast. I’m the _king_ of breakfast.” He sounded immensely proud of himself, and Len gave a noncommittal hum as he limped closer to Barry and the coffee machine on the counter, pouring himself a drink from the freshly brewed pot. “Do you want bacon or sausage with your pancakes?” Barry asked, and Len shrugged.

“Whatever’s fine,” he muttered, _not_ thinking about an entirely different kind of sausage he’d had in his dream, while attempting to quell the racing of his heart.

However, the shortness of Len’s answer only served to make Barry’s smile drop, the atmosphere around them getting a little awkward in a way which it hadn’t felt since… well, actually, it had _never_ felt like this with Barry. Surprisingly, for a hero and villain, they got along quite well. Len was thinking on that – and _nothing else_ – as he attempted to stagger away towards the kitchen table, but Barry’s hand found his arm and pulled him to a stop instead.

“Can we talk for a second?” he asked, and Len sighed. That had happened a lot quicker than he’d expected. He tried not to tense as he turned to face Barry full-on, but Len couldn’t help it if a little of his agitation seeped out. After all, he’d had a difficult night and this morning didn’t look like it was going to be any easier.

“Are you okay?” Barry asked, and Len shrugged, the movement jostling Barry’s hand a little until it fell from where it had been resting on Len’s tricep.

“Fantastic,” he drawled back, and Barry frowned.

“Really? Because you seem off,” he said, though it wasn’t quite as accusatory as it may have appeared, his voice soft and full of concern. “I overstepped this morning, didn’t I?” he asked when Len made no move to speak. “I’m sorry. I was just worried about you.”

And, yeah, that was the point. Barry was always worried about him, and Len…

Len kind of liked it.

He liked having someone there that cared about him, wanted to help him no matter what, and – more than anything – Len liked that that someone was _Barry_.

“It won’t happen again,” Barry promised, but Len knew that it was a lie. Or maybe he just wished that it was…

“It’s okay,” he found himself saying, though he wasn’t certain where the words were coming from because he had not given himself permission to speak. But Len’s mouth didn’t seem to care about orders, even as his brain screamed at himself to keep quiet. He’d never felt like this before, never lost control of himself like this. Everything he ever said was planned, down to the letter and the lilt of his voice. But not today. “I’m not mad at you.”

It was true, he wasn’t.

Len was mad at _himself_.

Because goddammit, if he hadn’t gone and fallen in love with the Flash!

Barry gave a shy smile, and it made Len’s heart leap in his chest, and he _hated_ it. Hated the way that it brightened his whole freaking morning…

Len didn’t know how this had happened!

But, actually, that was a lie… Len knew exactly how he’d fallen for Barry. The guy just knew how to get inside his head. And, once there, Len couldn’t get him out again. He’d spent _months_ obsessing over the Flash when they’d first met, months where he couldn’t think about any _one_ or any _thing_ else.

And then he’d found out Barry’s name, and that should have been it. The game was over, he’d won, he could finally move on.

Except, he _couldn’t_.

It may have started as a challenge, but somewhere along the way it had developed into something more, and Len had never quite understood why that was or how deep it went. Until last night. Until Scudder had started pushing, and Len had pushed back. It hadn’t been a good idea; he knew that before he’d even spoken a word. He should have just brushed it aside and kept the situation from escalating as it had done.

But then Scudder had had to go and single out Barry, and all of Len’s common sense and attempts at maintaining the peace went out the window. Barry was worth a thousand of Scudder – a _million_ , even – and it was about time that Sam learnt that.

And about time that _Len_ did, too.

Because Len would do anything for Barry Allen. He’d known that for a while now, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself.

But then last night, he had.

Not straight away, of course. But when Barry had run him home, Len had invited him to stay a little longer. He hadn’t really thought it through at the time, but he just hadn’t wanted Barry to leave so soon. So, he’d put on Netflix, and they’d started talking about the most trivial things until they’d both fallen asleep on the couch. Len had woken up after only an hour or so with Barry’s head nestled on his shoulder, and then he’d just… stayed there for a while.

How long, exactly, he couldn’t say. It could have been hours. In fact, it probably was. He’d just sat there, watching Barry sleep as he carefully swept the hair from his face.

Maybe Len should have just gone to bed, but he didn’t. He’d finally found time to think over everything that had happened between them recently, to put a word to his feelings, to name them for what they are.

Len had expected the answer to be scary. But it wasn’t.

Once he’d accepted that he was in love with Barry Allen, all Len could feel happiness.

It was as though the final pieces of his favourite puzzle were falling into place. It felt like his heart was singing, like his head was floating in the clouds, like his airways had cleared and he was finally able to breathe again for the first time all year.

Simply put, it felt exhilarating.

It felt _right_.

Though, that had been last night, when half of the world – including Barry himself – had been asleep. In the harsh light of the morning, everything was different.

Not his feelings for Barry.

No, Len knew how he felt, and he wasn’t in any rush to revert back to his previous state of denial. However, he was decidedly more nervous about it now than he had been five hours ago. Trying not to let said nerves show was difficult though, and Len was all too aware of his lack of a plan here, so he just sighed and answered Barry’s previous question to divert his line of thought away onto something else.

“I’ll have both,” he said, and Barry frowned, confused. It had been too long of a pause, and so Len prompted a little further. “For breakfast.” Finally, the recognition lit up in Barry’s eyes.

“Right, of course,” Barry said, turning back to the frying pan to check on the food. “Both it is.”

Len limped towards the kitchen table then as Barry flitted around the room at super speed. By the time Len had taken his seat, his breakfast was plated out in front of him while Barry sat opposite, waiting expectantly. Len drizzled a small amount of syrup on top his pancake stack before picking up his fork and cutting out a small, bite-sized chunk. He chewed on it for a moment, nodding his approval.

“These are really good,” Len admitted, already cutting out another piece, and Barry grinned wide at the praise, as minimal as it may have been.

“I fried them with lard rather than oil,” Barry said, stage-whispering across the table as though he was sharing a secret, and Len felt a smile pull at his lips in response.

“I’ll have to try that next time.”

As Len watched, Barry ate his own breakfast in record time, done before Len had even taken his third bite. Barry looked a little embarrassed by that afterwards, which Len just found charming.

“You know,” Barry said as he got up to rinse his plate and refill his empty mug with more coffee. “If you ever need a lift anywhere, you can just give me a call.”

“And you’ll come running?” Len finished for him with a smirk, and Barry laughed.

“Something like that.” He sat back down opposite Len again, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, his smile steadily turning more serious. “I’m worried about you riding your bike like this. I don’t want to see you getting any more hurt than you already are.” Len appreciated the sentiment, though he thought it was unnecessary. Barry didn’t relax again though until after Len promised that he would call if he needed a lift, so that was what he did. “Speaking of your leg,” Barry continued, “don’t forget to soak and rebandage it.”

“That’s next on my to-do list,” Len drawled, and Barry narrowed his eyes in response.

“I’m serious. Doctor’s orders, remember!” Len nodded, but Barry still didn’t look convinced, maybe that had something to do with the teasing smirk on Len’s lips. “Do you need my help getting in the bath?” Barry offered and that… well, that was undeniably tempting…

Len had half a mind to say yes but, instead, he said: “You angling for a career change, Barry? I think you’d make a great nurse.” He got the desired blush in response, and Len enjoyed watching it colour Barry’s cheeks.

“Aww, aren’t you two adorable?”

Len’s smile began to drop at the sound of his sister’s taunting voice. He hadn’t heard her enter the house, but he turned now to see her walk into the kitchen, smirking at the pair of them.

“Barry, keeping my brother company again, I see,” she drawled, and Barry’s blush only intensified. “I had no idea he needed his _‘bandages changed_ ’ this early in the morning.”

“That’s not… We…” Barry started and stopped a few times, embarrassed. “Nothing happened!” Barry finally managed to get out, and Len frowned, wondering where Barry was going with this. “I slept on the couch!” Barry continued to defend himself, and now Len was getting worried. What the hell the kid was playing at by telling Lisa the _truth_?! It was almost as though…

…As though Barry didn’t know.

_Crap_.

Barry _didn’t know_!

Len mentally ran through everything weird that Barry had said and done around the Rogues the past few months and suddenly it was all beginning to fall into place. Barry didn’t know that they were pretending to be in a relationship!

How the hell that had ever escaped Barry’s notice, Len had no freakin clue. But that was a puzzle for another time, because right now Barry was about to blow their cover and Len couldn’t let that happen, not if he wanted to keep the Flash’s identity safe.

“Barry, why don’t you give me and my sister a moment to talk,” Len quickly interrupted whatever was up next in Barry’s nervous ramble.

“Sure thing,” Barry said, thankfully accepting the out he was given as he stood from the table and left the kitchen in a rush, the door swinging shut behind him.

“You made him sleep on the couch?” Lisa asked, looking and sounding utterly unimpressed with the way Len was supposedly treating his ‘ _boyfriend_ ’. Lisa liked Barry, as she so often reminded Len, and she’d been very insistent that they stay together, so he imagined he would get a lot of crap for this if he didn’t handle it right. Thankfully, he had the perfect excuse right there in front of him, and it wasn’t even a lie.

“We fell asleep watching Netflix,” he said with just the right amount of annoyance sprinkled into his glare. Lisa rolled her eyes in response and moved towards the table, draping herself over Barry’s seat. “What do you want?” Len asked, recognising the look in her eyes. He knew it well.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she shrugged, examining her nails. Len kept quiet, waiting. “I just came by to check up on my big bro… and remind him of the little promise he made me last week.” Ah, so this was about the heist.

“If you hadn’t noticed,” Len drawled, “I’m not exactly in the best shape to pull off a job right now.”

“Not even for your little sister’s birthday present?” Lisa pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Not even then.”

“Jerk.”

“Train wreck.”

“Fine,” Lisa gave in, standing. “You’ll just have to start planning for when you’re better. But I warn you, the longer I have to wait, the more I expect.” Len huffed out a short laugh and nodded. “Good,” Lisa said, reaching over to pinch a strip of bacon from Len’s plate as she moved around the table, back through the door which separated the kitchen from the living room. “Bye, lover boy!” she called to Barry on her way out, and Len was already struggling up from his seat before Barry even had the chance to splutter out a single word.

“I… He’s… We’re not…”

“Barry,” Len said once he was leaning in the doorway and looking out into the living room beyond. His presence worked to gain Barry’s attention and keep him from putting his foot in his mouth, but now Len was at a loss for what to say next… After a second passed where Barry only stared back at Len, those big eyes of his looking ever more green next to the red accenting his cheeks, Len smirked. “If you keep blushing like that, Lisa is certain to get the wrong idea about us.”

Barry went an even deeper red at that, but he only rolled his eyes, more used to receiving this kind of goad from Len and better able to deal with it without instantly jumping to his own defence.

“See you later, boys,” Lisa said, picking her keys back up from the table next to the door and giving them a half-wave on her way out of the house. Once the door was shut behind her, Len turned to limp back to the kitchen table. He looked at his plate for a moment before shaking his head, not feeling up to it anymore.

“Do you want my last pancake?” he offered as Barry followed close behind him, and Barry didn’t hesitate before taking the plate from his hands and happily devouring the last of Len’s breakfast. He rinsed that plate clean, too, and bent down to open the dishwasher and place all of the dirty dishes inside, giving Len a beautiful view of Barry’s denim-clad ass.

Len tried not to stare, but his eyes lingered on Barry’s body without his permission, and he felt terrible about that immediately, what with how infinitely more complicated their entire situation had just become.

As though to remind him of this, Barry turned back around, drying his hands on a tea towel as he asked: “Your sister doesn’t actually think we’re sleeping together, does she?”

Len reached for his coffee cup, taking a sip to buy himself a few extra seconds to think because this… this was not something which he had been prepared to deal with this morning. How the hell was he supposed to tell the guy he’s in love with that every single one of the Rogues thought they were dating? This wasn’t exactly your everyday kind of conversation…

“About that,” Len muttered. He wanted to avoid Barry’s gaze, but he knew that it wouldn’t be the best move to make right now, sure that – if he did – Barry would just think something was wrong.

But something _was_ wrong.

God, how the hell was Len going to explain this?!

“Lisa is…” Len’s words drifted off almost instantly. The look Barry was giving him only serving to make his heart leap up into his throat, blocking any and all sounds from escaping him.

But Barry _needed_ to know the truth.

He _did_.

And yet…

“You have nothing to worry about,” Len lied, knowing that it was a mistake the second he said it and just hoping that this one wouldn’t come back to bite him on the ass.

Though, he supposed if Barry was the one doing the biting, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing…

Len shook his head clear of that thought. He needed to tell Barry the truth, and he _would_ , just… not today.

“We can talk later,” he said. Later, as in when Len actually had any idea of how to bring this whole fake-dating thing up… “You need to get to work.”

It was a blatant excuse, but it was successful in distracting Barry, who instantly began patting down his pockets and glancing around the kitchen, all questions about their relationship temporarily forgotten.

“Have you seen my cell phone?” he asked. “I thought I’d left it on the table.” Len grabbed his own phone and gave Barry’s a call as the speedster zipped through the house, searching. “Got it!” he called before the first ring had even finished. He walked back into the kitchen a moment later, checking the time before shoving his phone into the pocket of his tight black jeans. “Yeah, I should probably head out while I still have chance to make a Jitters run before my shift starts.”

Len nodded, but then he thought better of it and shook his head instead.

“You can’t go to work like that,” he drawled. “Not unless you want the whole precinct to think you were over here playing _hide the popsicle_ all night long.” Barry turned beetroot red at the euphemism, and Len enjoyed it even more than the last blush. “You can borrow some of my clothes,” he offered while Barry tried uselessly to pull the creases out of his shirt.

And, yes, maybe Len got a little thrill up his spine at the thought of Barry wearing his clothes today, but that wasn’t the reason he offered. Wasn’t the _only_ reason he offered, anyway. The truth was, there was no hiding the fact that Barry had slept in that shirt last night and, from what Barry had told him about his boss, Len gathered that this Captain Singh would be none too happy about him showing up to working looking so unkempt.

“Thanks,” Barry laughed, openly relieved, “I was feeling a little gross about it myself.”

“Take whatever you need from my room,” Len said. Barry nodded, his hands finding the hem of his button-up and looking as though he was just going to tug it up over his head right here and now in Len’s kitchen.

Len’s mouth ran dry at the thought, his heart racing at the first glimpse of smooth skin peeking out from underneath the bottom of Barry’s shirt. But Barry zipped off upstairs before he’d even gotten to the good bit of the show, returning a second later, fully dressed in clean clothes. Len deliberately did not show his disappointment in that.

“Much better,” he drawled, trying to stay positive: he may have missed the opening act, but the end result was the same and Len still took delight in seeing the Flash, the man he was in love with, wearing one of his fitted long-sleeved black Henleys. Well, it wasn’t _entirely_ as fitted on Barry’s body as his own, the kid being a size or two smaller than Len was, but it still showed off the solid muscle on Barry’s arms nicely, and Len would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the view. Even more with that peek of collar bone still very much visible for the world to see.

And they would.

Anyone who saw Barry Allen dressed like this today and _didn’t_ take the time to admire it was a damn fool.

“I’ve got to go,” Barry said, and Len’s eyes snapped back up to his face. Every urge and impulse in his body was telling him to not let Barry leave. Not yet. Not without pulling him close and telling him how he felt… or _showing_ him. Either way, Len’s tongue was sure to be very busy any second now.

Except... Len didn’t do anything. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, he only smiled and watched Barry walk away, regretting it the second that he heard the front door click closed behind him.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so strange, because I have the urge to apologise for the fact not much happened in it. And yet _so much happened in it_!  
> Like it may have only been one lazy morning with the pair of them, but it was a hell of a morning with a couple of big reveals and lots of pining.
> 
> PS. I wish I could have written the actual scene from the previous night into this chapter too, rather than just rehashing over it in Len’s POV. Showing you the moment that it actually clicked for Len that he was in love would have been great, but I just really liked this way better, it felt more dramatic.


	16. Chapter 16

Barry got to work a little early on Friday, taking enjoyment from seeing Captain Singh do a double-take as he walked through the precinct and up to his lab. He could already tell it was going to be a good day.

A busy one too, though, which became apparent the second that Barry entered his lab and was met with files upon files of work stacked up on his desk and waiting for him. Apparently, the night shift had been busy. Barry just sighed and got to it.

Within an hour, he was called to his first crime scene of the day. It was a small B&E in a house downtown. Barry usually only worked homicides, but they were low in staff lately, so he was helping out in other departments too. It was a pain. Not the helping out part, per se – Barry didn’t mind lending a hand – but the travelling to and from wasn’t ideal. He couldn’t use his powers to speed back to the precinct unless he wanted people to start asking questions, and when he was working Joe’s cases that didn’t matter so much because he could catch a ride back with them. But with every other case, Barry just had to take the bus.

For that reason alone, this one small task took nearly two hours for Barry to complete. And when he was walking back into the precinct afterwards, he nearly ran directly into Joe and Eddie on his rush back up to his lab.

“Hey, there you are,” Eddie greeted, smiling as always.

“You were searching for me?” Barry asked, trying to avoid looking over into whatever concerned or judgemental look Joe was probably giving him for staying out all night without even texting to let him know everything was okay. Barry already felt bad enough about that without adding in Joe’s disapproval. Even on a typical day, Barry could understand his foster father getting mad about him vanishing without a word all night – he lived a dangerous life, after all, and it was just common courtesy to let the people who care about you know you’ve not gone missing – but on a Thursday night? When Joe now knew that Barry spent his time with _Len_? That surely only made matters worse.

Sure, Joe was trying to be more accepting, he really seemed to have turned over a new leaf and was doing his best to be less hypercritical, but Barry’s friendship with Captain Cold surely still had to be a difficult pill for any father figure to swallow.

“Yeah, are you free tomorrow evening?” Eddie asked, drawing Barry out of his own head once again. “Our tailor called this morning and asked if we could come in a few days early for our fitting.” Right, the fitting for the wedding. With everything going on, Barry had almost forgotten. It was still such a strange thought that Iris was getting married in only a handful of weeks! It didn’t hurt anymore, though. Barry had moved past his feelings for Iris now, and everyone was better for it. She and Eddie were happy together, and Barry was happy for them. And that was the truth.

In the beginning, once Barry had finally accepted that Iris and Eddie were here to stay, he had felt _lost_. He’d been in love with Iris West for pretty much as long as he could remember, and he didn’t know who he even was anymore without those feelings. It was like they had become part of his identity.

But over the months, Barry had healed again. Healed enough that, when Eddie had asked him to be one of his groomsmen, Barry had been happy to accept it without so much as a second thought.

“Yeah, I’m free,” Barry nodded, and Eddie positively preened. He was so excited to be married to Iris, and Barry was excited for them.

“Great, I’m just waiting for my brother to get back to me now,” he said before turning his grin from Barry towards where Joe was hovering between them, and then his smile began to slip. Barry finally looked to his foster father and saw the very obvious ‘ _give us a minute_ ’ look that he was aiming at Eddie now. “Err… you know what? The car’s been sitting out there in the sun all morning. I think I’ll go roll down the windows, blast the air-con, just try cool it down a bit before we have to head off.”

“I appreciate it,” Joe said to his partner, and Barry felt tense. Joe didn’t sound angry, but he certainly didn’t sound all that happy either, and Barry was left unsure where they stood on this. Truthfully, some days it could be as challenging to get a good read off of Joe as it was off of Len, and today was one of those days.

Barry tried not to feel anxious as Eddie shot him an apologetic smile before turning to leave the two of them alone – well, as alone as two people could be in a busy precinct.

“You didn’t come home last night,” Joe said. It was phrased like a question, his tone of voice indicating that he’d like some sort of explanation, though it wasn’t as sharp as it could have been. It was a request for information, not a demand.

“Yeah, sorry, I should have called,” Barry said and then paused, uncertain how to continue. He thought about lying and saying that he’d gone over to Cisco’s and fell asleep there after seeing Len last night, thinking that would make Joe feel a bit better. But, quite frankly, Barry didn’t _want_ to lie about his whereabouts.

As strange as it might be, Barry wasn’t ashamed of his friendship with Leonard Snart – nor of his friendship with the rest of the Rogues, actually. Though Barry thought it was better to ease Joe into _that_. He planned to tell Cisco and Caitlin about the Rogues meetings before the next one came around, but it might take a little longer until Joe was ready to hear it.

“I ended up crashing on Len’s couch last night,” Barry said, holding his head up high and silently letting Joe know that his opinion on that was unwanted. Barry was an adult; he could make his own decisions, he didn’t need to justify his friendships to anyone.

Joe’s face visibly tightened at Barry’s words, his lips thinning unhappily, but he didn’t say anything about it just yet. Instead, he looked Barry up and down before muttering: “That his shirt?”

“Uh…” Barry looked down at his clothes, his fingers finding the hem of Len’s shirt and tugging on it absentmindedly. He supposed he should have expected Joe to realise he was wearing someone else’s clothes, given how baggy Len’s top was around his shoulders and torso… plus, black wasn’t usually Barry’s colour. Especially not on a hot summer day like today, but Len didn’t have that wide a variety of shirts, so he had just picked the first one he’d laid eyes on in the closet this morning. “Yeah. Len leant it to me so that I wouldn’t need to go home to change.”

“Right,” Joe said, nodding. “Because he’s your… _friend_.” His face was impossible to read, though Barry was willing to bet those words tasted at least a little sour. That didn’t matter, though, because Barry liked Len, and he wasn’t going to let anyone so much as attempt to change his mind.

“Exactly.”

Maybe Joe understood that Barry was taking a stand on this issue, or maybe he really _was_ just done meddling with his life, because he didn’t say anything more about it. He just nodded and quickly changed the topic.

“Iris’ wedding is only a month away,” he said, “have you thought any more about bringing a date?” So, maybe Joe wasn’t _entirely_ done meddling, after all. But, hey, at least he wasn’t focussing on Leonard Snart! It was a small victory, but it was still a win in Barry’s book.

“Have _you_ thought any more about your father of the bride speech?” Barry diverted, but Joe just smiled.

“Finished it last night,” he said, prepared for the escape attempt this time around. “You know, it doesn’t necessarily need to be someone you’re dating. I’m sure Iris wouldn’t mind if you brought a friend to the reception.”

For one heart-stopping second, Barry thought that Joe was hinting that Barry should bring _Len_ to the wedding.

But then Barry’s sanity returned to him, and he was able to laugh off the sheer ridiculousness of that idea.

“So, long as you tell her who it is beforehand,” Joe continued. “So that she could amend the table cards.” There was a slightly mischievous part of Barry – a part which he hadn’t even known existed until right now – that was tempted to tell Joe that he _was_ taking Len as his plus one.

Just as a joke, of course.

But then Barry dismissed the idea after deciding that he probably shouldn’t give his foster father a heart attack. Iris would kill him if her dad was too laid-up to walk her down the aisle next month.

“I’ll think about it,” Barry, wisely, said instead. “Later, though. I’ve got to get back to work.” He started backing away now, thankful when Joe didn’t push it any further, and retreated to his lab.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. Barry went to two more crime scenes – both pretty cut and dry cases – returned to run a sample on the PCR machine, chased up an overdue blood toxicology report, had to _rerun_ the PCR because the damn machine failed, and spent the following hour bemoaning the budget cuts which had stuck him with a machine nearly half his age. Honestly, it was probably easier to just run the test by hand at this point, but he didn’t have everything he needed for it in the lab.

Barry was considering just going out and buying a new machine out of his own pocket, or maybe stealing one from STAR Labs – was it technically stealing if he owned the company though? – when the machine finally kicked out a usable result, and he was able to continue on with the next stage in his DNA profiling.

He ended up eating lunch at his desk, which wasn’t strictly allowed but, hey, one of the benefits to having a lab to yourself meant that there was no one around to tell you off for bending a few of the less significant rules. And, anyway, Barry was always careful not to contaminate the evidence, and he washed his hands thoroughly before eating – not that anything he worked with in this lab could actually poison him anymore now that he had superpowers – so did it really matter? Singh would probably answer yes to that, but Singh wasn’t here, so Barry got to eat his hotdog and fries in peace.

Before Barry knew it, five o’clock had come and gone, and he was able to pack up and head home.

He got back before Joe – one of the perks of superspeed – and jumped into the shower so that he could give his hair a real wash. Afterwards, Barry changed back into his own clothes. It wasn’t that he was particularly averse to wearing Len’s shirt – in fact, the material was soft and comfy against Barry’s skin, and he was a little begrudged to take it off – just that he didn’t like the idea of the questions and jokes his team would make if they knew he was wearing Captain Cold’s clothes. He’d had enough of their taunting without adding more fuel to the fire…

Barry paused after his shower to eat some dinner – which he only burnt a _little_ – and check up on Len again before heading to the lab.

Cisco and Caitlin were in hushed conversation when Barry zipped into the cortex, and he didn’t feel all that eager to find out what they were whispering about, so he went along with it and played clueless even after they very blatantly fell silent immediately after Barry entered the room.

“Barry! Hey!” Cisco said, his voice a little too high and weird. “You ready to work?”

“Born ready,” Barry said eagerly. Anything to stop his team from discussing his supposed feelings for Leonard Snart…

“Great,” Caitlin nodded, standing up to grab her tablet. She didn’t even look at him as she spoke, eyes entirely trained on the screen in front of her. “Oh, by the way,” she said, not casually _at all_ , “I’ve nearly finished modifying that hyper-distilled suspension I’ve been working on. How about tomorrow night we give the crime-fighting a rest and test it out?” Finally, she lifted her head to look at him, clearly trying to smother a giant grin. “See if we can’t get the Flash a little drunk.”

“That’s an excellent idea!” Cisco piped up, way too overly excited. Whatever they were up to, Barry was sure he didn’t want anything to do with it, even if they _were_ offering him a potential solution to his eternal sobriety.

“Sorry, can’t,” Barry said, watching as Cisco’s face fell and Caitlin began to pout. “I’ve got a suit fitting for the wedding.” It was true, though Barry didn’t expect it to take up that much time. Including himself, Eddie, and Joe, there were only five of them at the fitting, so Barry thought it would probably only take an hour or two, tops. However, he wasn’t keen on telling Cisco and Cait that until he was sure about what he was getting himself into.

“The night after then?” Caitlin asked, not pretending to pay any more attention to the tablet in her hands.

“You want to go out for drinks on a Sunday night?” Barry asked, raising an eyebrow, and not even attempting to hide the suspicion in his voice.

“Why not?” Cisco said. “You can’t get hungover, and we’re drinking with our boss, so I don’t think he’ll mind so much if we come in a little late Monday morning.” Well, Barry supposed that was true… “So, Sunday?”

“I…” Barry stopped, sighing. He didn’t have any plans on Sunday and, regardless of what Cait and Cisco were up to, testing out their newest formula _was_ in his best interest – not only because it would mean he could get drunk again, but also because a working solution to this issue would put them one step closer to developing better painkillers for him, and God knew that Barry could do with that…

However, he hadn’t had any time to himself in what felt like – and probably was – _months_ … and he’d been eager for it this week.

“I don’t know,” Barry finally admitted. “Joe and Wally are going to the Diamonds game, they’ll be in Keystone all day, and I was kind of looking forward to having the house to myself.”

“Another time then,” Caitlin nodded, still looking hopeful. And Barry was starting to feel paranoid. What if he was reading too much into all of this? Maybe they were just excited to test out the super alcohol, and they had no ulterior motives there? And, really, what motives could they actually have anyway?! They were his friends. And this whole Leonard Snart thing… it had to just be a joke. Right? They didn’t, _couldn’t_ , actually mean it.

Before anyone could say anything else, though, an alert went off on Cisco’s computer for a factory fire downtown. Barry didn’t waste any time zipping into his Flash suit and discarding his clothes and phone on top of a nearby desk.

“Definitely,” he promised, and then he took off running out of the cortex.

[] [] []

“You doing alright there, Barry?” Cisco asked, although he knew his friend had everything under control even before Barry responded with an affirmative. It was a relatively small fire, and the Flash was more likely to be held up taking selfies with the crowd than in any actual need of his team’s help on this one.

Caitlin must have been thinking the same thing because, after a second passed, she reached over to switch the microphone off.

“What’d you do that for?”

“Baseball.”

“What?”

“Baseball!” Cait said again excitedly, and Cisco nodded, pretending to have any clue of where she was going with this. “When Barry said that Wally and Joe are going to a baseball match, you know, it got me thinking… Baseball games have a kiss cam,” she said as though it were obvious. “So, if Barry and Leonard both happened to be at a game and we hacked the camera…”

“That’s…” Cisco started to say before his friend’s words had even fully processed in his head, so used to Caitlin coming up with _the worst_ suggestions for their whole ‘ _get Barry and Snart together_ ’ project. But then Cisco thought about it a little and… “Actually, that’s not a terrible idea,” he admitted. “How would we get them there?”

“I’m still working on that part.”

Nonetheless… it was only half a plan, but it wasn’t a bad one. Definitely better than anything either of them had come up with thus far.

“Okay,” Cisco nodded, tapping his fingers quickly against the worktop as he thought. “Well, getting Barry there should be easy enough.” None of them were particularly big fans of baseball, but if Cisco asked, he was sure he could convince Barry to tag along for a game. “But Snart?” Cisco shrugged. “I don’t even know if he likes sports.”

“He seems like the kind of guy who’d like sports,” Caitlin said. “Perhaps, if we just sent him the tickets under the guise of winning some competition, he’d show up?”

“Yeah, armed to the teeth,” Cisco said, shaking his head. “Snart’s never going to fall for that. He’s gonna think it’s a trap.”

“– _Well, that was easy_ –” Barry interrupted, his voice coming through the speakers in the cortex, and Cisco instantly switched their mic back on. “– _You guys got anything else for me_?–”

“All’s clear so far,” Cisco begrudgingly admitted. “But why don’t you stay out there for a while? Stretch your legs a bit, go for a run. You know, just… have some fun!” He hoped that he didn’t sound too obvious, and his prayers were answered when he heard the sound of Barry’s laughter coming through the comms.

“– _It has been a while since I last ran around the city just for the sake of it_ –” he admitted, and Cisco sighed in relief, glad that he and Caitlin would have a little longer by themselves to plan. “– _Let me know if anything pops up_ –”

“Of course,” Cait replied, smiling. “Have fun.” She switched the microphone back off before Barry had even begun moving, turning around in her seat to face Cisco head-on. “So, back to Leonard Snart. Any thoughts?”

“Well, I could always use my in with Lisa,” Cisco said. It wasn’t a boast, it was just a… a sportsman-like assessment of their best options. “You know, dust off the old moves, so to speak. She’ll be helpless to resist.” Okay… maybe it _was_ a brag. Not that Caitlin was at all impressed by it.

“Let’s call that plan B.”

“Well, how else are we going to find anything out about Leonard Snart?” Cisco asked. “He’s not exactly an open book.” And, out of the two of them, Snart was the one that Cisco was sure would need the most convincing. Barry was… Well, he was an idiot sometimes, but once they gave him the right kind of encouragement, Cisco was sure Barry would be happy to make a move on Cold. The reverse might not be true.

Leonard Snart had some serious feelings for Barry, that much was obvious. Cisco was so sure on it that he was surprised he hadn’t figured it out any sooner. However, the guy didn’t exactly exude the warm and cuddly’s. Cisco imagined that Snart’s idea of wooing was about as blunt as a kid pulling a girl’s pigtails to get her attention. Convincing Captain Cold to cut it out and actually be open and honest with Barry might take some work.

Cisco just wished he knew where they were starting at… Just how much of a push would Snart need?

“Maybe it would be easier if we knew what they’re up to on these little Thursday night dates?” Cisco said, already coming up with a plan on how to subtly infiltrate their date night, but Caitlin was quick to shoot him down.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I’ve already learnt from that mistake. If Barry wants us to know what he’s doing, he’ll tell us. We can’t snoop on him.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Cisco said, closing his eyes and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about setting them up?”

“Of course not.” Caitlin sounded surprised – and when he opened his eyes, she was frowning back at him.

“But you just said-”

“That we can’t snoop on Barry,” Cait finished for him. “But we’re not. We’re pushing; there’s a difference.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Cisco muttered. Not that he was angling to stop this little plan of theirs anytime soon either, he just wanted to make sure that Caitlin was one hundred percent on board. No second thoughts. However… “Is it weird that like 80% of our conversations these days are about trying to set our best friend up with a supervillain?”

Caitlin shrugged. “It’s been a slow month.”

[] [] []

Len didn’t often feel as though he needed to talk through his problems, but today was different. Today, he’d discover not only that he was in love with the man he was pretending to be in a relationship with, but also that said man doesn’t even know that they were pretending to be in a relationship! It wasn’t exactly a cut and dry issue, and Len – though he was spurned to admit it – could do with some advice.

However, this little dilemma he was faced with just so happened to be the one thing he couldn’t explain to anyone, least of all any of his Rogues. He couldn’t even let his sister or Mick know that he wasn’t actually dating Barry, or it would just invite too many questions that Len wouldn’t be able to answer without giving up the Flash’s secret.

And that just wasn’t an option.

Len was on his own with this one, and he couldn’t waste a moment of his time, so from the second that Barry left his house on Friday morning, Len began planning. It would be another week until Barry would see any of the Rogues again, so he had a few days to come up with the best course of action to tell Barry everything.

And, by that, Len really did mean _everything_.

Not just the fact that they were in a fake-relationship, but also about how Len truly felt. It had been a long time since he had been in love with anyone, longer than he cared to admit, so long that he had forgotten what it felt like.

But that was what this was; there were no two ways about it. Len wanted to be with Barry for real, not just for the convenience of Rogues meetings. He wanted to have every part of Barry that he could have, everything which Barry would give him.

So, perhaps, this would all be easier if that was how things started. If Len just bit the bullet and asked him out. Then the whole ‘ _Oh, by the way, everyone thinks we’ve been dating for months_ ’ conversation might go down a little better. They wouldn’t need to fake being in a relationship. They could just _be_.

However, there were undoubtedly some risks with that approach. The main one being that Barry might not actually want to date Len.

If Len asked him out, and Barry shot him down… Well, it certainly wouldn’t feel great to follow up a rejection with ‘ _Well, you’re going to have to pretend you’re dating me for the sake of your identity, anyway_ ’.

Of course, being rejected wasn’t going to feel good no matter what the circumstances were, and Len would rather not put much thought into that possibility. But, whether he wanted to or not, Len couldn’t think about this as though it was a done deal. It was a complicated situation, and Barry was just as likely to turn him down as he was to say yes to a date. Even if Barry did share Len’s feelings, it didn’t change the fact that Len was a thief and Barry was a hero and a cop.

Barry was fine spending time with him as a friend, but Len could understand that anything more than that might be pushing the boat out a little too far. He could understand it… but not accept it. Not yet. Not without putting up a damn good fight.

So how was Len going to do this?

How was Leonard Snart going to ask _the Flash_ out on a date?

The thought should have been laughable but, instead, it made Len’s insides twist up into knots. He was nervous; really, genuinely, _nervous_. Len hadn’t done this much. He’d had his fair share of one-night stands and flings over the years, but actually dating someone, caring about them, loving them… that was different. That was a step he hadn’t taken in _years_.

Len liked to think that he knew Barry well and, honestly, if the kid liked him back then he probably wouldn’t care _how_ Len actually went about asking him out. But Len wanted this to be different, to be memorable. However, big romantic gestures weren’t usually his _thing_. He didn’t know how to do that crap.

Flowers and chocolates were an obvious choice, but they were overused, stale, predictable. Len didn’t like being predictable. He made a living off of his theatricality, as his sister so often liked to point out, and that was the side of him that Barry knew best. So, flowers and chocolates? Not really an option here. It had to be something bigger.

Something worthy of Barry Allen.

Len mulled over this for hours, so absorbed in his plans that he didn’t realise how much time had passed until his phone began to ring, Barry’s name popping up on his caller ID, making Len’s heart race erratically.

“Let me guess, it’s time for my bath,” Len drawled as he answered the call, not allowing his tone of voice to betray the nervous energy bubbling under his skin, even as he thought about Barry’s offer this morning and realised that he was kind of regretting turning it down. A sponge bath from one Barry Allen was precisely what Len needed right now.

Barry didn’t respond to the tease in a way that Len might have hoped for, though. Instead, his reaction was one of worry.

“Have you not soaked your leg yet?” Barry demanded. “It’s nearly six o’clock! You’re supposed to be doing it twice a day.”

“Of course, I have,” Len lied smoothly.

It wasn’t that Len was being callous with his own health. The truth was that getting in and out of his bathtub had become extremely difficult lately. He had tried it once, tried to actually follow the good Doctor Snow’s instructions on how to take care of his frostbite. However, lowering himself into the tub without putting too much pressure on his injured thigh was difficult, and getting out again was near impossible. The searing, white, hot pain that had overcome Len at that moment was not one that he was eager to experience again anytime soon.

Instead, Len had taken to just showering for a little longer – as long as he could stand on his feet for without risking a fall – and hoping that it would be enough to aid his recovery. He wasn’t going to tell Barry that, though. Len didn’t want him to worry. Nor did he particularly enjoy letting anyone, not even the man he loved, see how weak he actually was.

“You don’t need to keep checking up on me, you know,” Len continued. What he didn’t say, however, was that he was kind of enjoying Barry’s attention and care. Even if Len wasn’t used to letting his guard down like this around anyone, he _was_ getting used to Barry looking out for him. And just thinking about it now made Len’s heart flutter in his chest.

God, he wanted to tell Barry the truth. He wanted to invite him over and kiss him, hold him, love him. Len wanted it more than he had wanted anything else in a very long time.

“Someone has to,” Barry said. His voice was sweet and warm, and Len could picture the shy smile that he would be wearing as he spoke. Len wondered if Barry was still wearing Len’s shirt, and the thought of it made him smile in return.

“What are you doing tonight?” Len asked on impulse, eager to see Barry again even though he still had no idea what he would say when they were together. Len had no plans here, and that was unsettling but also rather fitting considering who it was that Len was in love with.

Before the Flash popped up in Central City, Len had been a master in this game of cops and robbers. He was good, very good, he never left so much as a trace of evidence behind; there was a reason, after all, why he had always got away with his crimes. He’d made mistakes in the past, but he’d learnt from them. Len had become calculated and precise. He always had a plan, always, down to the second.

But then the Flash had shown up, and everything Len had worked for went out the window. Barry changed the game for the better but coming up with a workable plan when you had speedster heroes running around the city made things infinitely more complicated. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t account for Barry Allen.

Len had learnt that the hard way.

He’d had to rewire his whole way of thinking. Planning was still important, and it was vital for his continued safety and freedom, but Len also had to think on his feet and be ready for anything, regardless of whether he was on a job or not. He’d become rather good at that too. Except, right now, he didn’t feel all that prepared…

“The usual,” Barry answered. He sounded as though he’d put the phone on speaker and was moving around his kitchen. Len just hoped that, whatever Barry was making, he didn’t give himself food poisoning.

“Another thrilling night of catching bad guys?” he asked, leaning back on his dining chair and smirking despite knowing that Barry couldn’t see him. This part, at least, was familiar territory. “You know, if you ever get bored of the _good_ life, I’m sure we could make your position in my Rogues a little more official.”

“Are you asking me to become a thief?” Barry said, sounding astonished, and Len laughed.

“What? You’re allowed to make your hero pitches, but I can’t tempt you with my own offers?” Len said, thinking of tempting Barry with something a little more delectable than a heist… But he wouldn’t do that. Not on the phone. Not now. “For the record, I think you would make an excellent thief.”

“Oh, come on,” Barry said, there was a smile in his voice, and Len was picturing him blushing that lovely red colour which Len was yearning to taste with his tongue. “You want a speedster on your team? With no one around to stop you? That would be far too easy; you’d get bored.”

“Of you, Barry?” Len asked, shaking his head. “Never.”

Len wished he could have whispered that against Barry’s skin. He began to clench his hand into a fist on top of the kitchen table, doing his best to stop imaging how he would run his hands through Barry’s hair and down his body if given the chance.

“You live for a challenge,” Barry continued, quickly moving past Len’s confession, having no idea how sincerely he’d meant it.

“Working with you is challenge enough,” Len teased. And before Barry could respond, there was the sound of a smoke alarm blaring from the other end of the phone call, followed immediately by Barry swearing to himself and the sound of static on the line, which Len could only assume was the noise created by Barry’s lightning trail as he raced around his own kitchen trying to save his dinner. “Case and point,” Len laughed as the beeping of the smoke detector came to an abrupt end. “You know, you don’t need to burn down West’s kitchen… you could just come over to mine. I’d be happy to throw something together.” Like a date.

Len’s stomach twisted into knots as he waited for Barry’s answer.

“What are you having?”

He sounded interested in the offer, though Len had to remind himself that Barry’s mind was only on food right now. He didn’t know how Len felt, didn’t know where Len’s mind was at.

“What do you want?” Len asked, mentally running through all the food he had in his fridge and hoping he had the ingredients at hand for whatever Barry wanted to eat.

“I-” Barry stopped. Whether that was because he was mid-internal debate or because he was still a bit preoccupied with cleaning up whatever mess he’d made in the kitchen, Len couldn’t know. “No, I shouldn’t,” Barry eventually said, and Len frowned, disappointed in his answer. “My dinner’s only a _little_ blackened, anyway. Completely salvageable.”

“Another time then,” Len offered, well aware of the fact that he would need to speak to Barry – to either ask him out on a date or tell him the truth about their whole fake-relationship debacle – sooner rather than later.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Barry promised. “But I should get going.”

“To eat your burnt dinner?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Len said, and Barry returned the farewell before hanging up. As the line went dead, Len was left with this pit in the bottom of his stomach, telling him that he’d made a mistake by letting Barry leave this morning under false pretences, by letting him hang up now without telling him the truth.

But Len tried to push that out of his mind. After all, it was only Friday afternoon and nearly a week until Barry would see the Rogues again.

Len still had time.

Everything would be fine.

[] [] []

Barry started his Saturday morning like he started most Saturday mornings: with a trip to Jitters. Most weeks, he would meet Caitlin and Cisco here, and this week was no different as he skidded to a stop in the car park and tapped on the driver’s side window to Cisco van, making his friend – who had been fixated with typing away on his phone – jump out of his skin. Barry laughed, and Cisco glared, which only served to make Barry laugh louder.

Cisco opened the door hastily, forcing Barry to jump back out of the way in fear of getting hit. Whether Cisco would have _actually_ smacked him with the van door or not was debatable, but Barry wasn’t taking his chances.

“You’re in a good mood,” Cisco commented as he locked up the van, and Barry shrugged. He supposed he was feeling chipper. Maybe it had something to do with the sun? There was just something about waking up to clear blue skies that made Barry smile. “Enjoying some vitamin _D_?” Cisco asked, but the taunt in his voice and grin on his lips told Barry that his friend was talking about more than just the sunshine.

Barry sighed, wishing that his team would just drop this whole thing already. Nothing was going on between himself and Leonard Snart!

And, sure, Barry had woken up to a text from Len this morning. A ‘ _Your name has only been mentioned on the news once so far, you must have had a slow night_ ’. And, okay, maybe that little tease had made Barry smile. But you know what? Yeah. Talking to his friends made him feel happy. Was that a crime now?

Barry didn’t say any of that, though. Because, according to Cisco, explaining himself suddenly meant that Barry was being ‘ _defensive_ ’ and was ‘ _in denial_ ’.

Which was ridiculous!

Regardless, Barry said: “Your jokes are getting old.”

“So’s your boyfriend,” Cisco immediately replied, and Barry resisted the urge to faceplant his head against the nearest wall. “Hey, I’m not judging,” Cisco said as they walked through the car park and towards the building. “We’ve all been swayed by an older man or two, and I have to admit that Snart’s got a certain silver fox quality to him, I get that.”

“Sounds like _you’re_ in love with him,” Barry rebutted, trying his best to turn the tables on Cisco now, but his friend only laughed.

“That right there?” Cisco said, pushing the door to Jitters open to walk through. “That’s what we call jealousy. But don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m not a homewrecker.”

Barry decided about then that it was probably best not to dignify these comments with an answer. So, he bit back his response and walked past Cisco, in the direction of where Caitlin and Ronnie were waiting in the queue. But then Barry was hit with the realisation that, since Caitlin also thought he and Len were a thing – which, again, _ridiculous!_ – and since she had been the one to speak with Ronnie about why Barry was helping to take care of Len when he was injured… That meant that Ronnie _also_ thought that Barry and Len were dating!

Jeez, this whole thing was just getting out of control.

Barry needed to start putting this right, and he had every intention of doing just that as he strode towards his friends when–

“Barry!” And that was Shawna Baez’s voice. Barry stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead of him, he saw Caitlin and Ronnie pause mid-conversation to turn around, and Barry followed suit as Shawna continued to talk excitedly. “I didn’t know you were going to be here too!” Oh God, oh crap, oh no…

The Rogues were here!

Or, at least, Shawna, Hartley, Mark, and Lisa were here. And maybe there were more coming… Meanwhile, Barry was here with Cisco, Caitlin, and the face of Firestorm!

This was not going to end well.

“Ignore her,” Hart spoke up, “she’s had too much sugar on an empty stomach.” That earned him a swat on the arm from Shawna while Mark laughed.

“Come sit with us,” Lisa invited, and then her eyes finally found Cisco, where he was hovering a few steps behind Barry, and her smile turned from friendly to downright devilish. “Your cute friend can come too.” Barry didn’t even need to turn around to know that Cisco was blushing at the compliment, and yet _he_ had the gall to tease _Barry_ about having feelings for one of the Snart siblings.

“Wait,” Mark said, a strange tone to his voice as he eyed Cisco up and down, frowning. “Don’t you work for STAR Labs?”

And here it was, Barry’s last morning on earth. Weather Wizard was surely going to kill him right here and now.

Cisco, clearly freaking out, glanced over towards Caitlin and Ronnie, unintentionally drawing all of the Rogues’ attention to the two of them as well. Jitters was busy and loud this morning, buzzing with commotion, and yet the tension amongst the Rogues was so thick that it was suffocating, silent. The only sound Barry could register now was that of his own blood rushing through his veins.

“Calm down,” Lisa said, sounding almost bored by the situation. She rolled her eyes and stood up, striding over towards Cisco and draping her arm over his shoulder. “Cisco here saved my life last year. He’s learnt his lesson about the whole ‘ _illegal incarceration_ ’ thing.” She lifted her other hand to pinch Cisco’s cheek, drawing an awkward laugh out of him as she directed her next words completely at him now. “Haven’t you?”

“Sure have,” Cisco nodded. The bravery in his voice was entirely fake; however, it may have been convincing when aimed at people who didn’t really know him, like the Rogues. A few more tense seconds passed, and then Mark and Shawna both shared a look. Eventually, they nodded, and Lisa dragged Cisco over to plonk him down in one of the seats around the table, right next to hers.

Barry turned his gaze back to Caitlin and Ronnie, finding them both hovering only paces behind him, as though they’d moved forward in preparation for a fight, and now they just stood there, awkward and unsure what to do. Barry took a seat next to Shawna, and Ronnie moved to grab two spare chairs from a nearby table for himself and Caitlin, neither of them looking happy but clearly not wanting to leave Barry and Cisco to this by themselves.

And that was how this particular Saturday morning Jitters run found Barry surrounded by not only his team but the Rogues as well.

It was a recipe for disaster, and Barry had the sickening sensation that he was watching an accident unfurl in front of him in slow motion, helpless to stop it. He began picking at a napkin from the table, tearing at it to give himself something to do to occupy his hands. He didn’t have a drink yet, neither did any of the other members of Team Flash. However, Barry felt too anxious to leave this table right now to order anything, so he sat in the ever-growing silence and tried to muster up _something_ to say while his friends alternated between nervous glances around the table and shooting Barry concerned expressions. He never _had_ got around to telling any of them about his friendships with Len’s Rogues…

“Here, try this,” Lisa said, pushing her cup towards Cisco. The liquid inside was a smooth golden-brown, and the drink was topped with a couple of inches of whipped cream and smothered with edible golden glitter. Barry knew it instantly as the frappe that Jitters had named after Lisa’s villainous alter ego. He looked to the other drinks on the table, finding that Shawna was drinking a Peek-a-Boo, and Hartley was drinking a Pied Piper, but Mark – not having a named drink on the menu – was just drinking a cappuccino.

“The Golden Glider,” Cisco said, nodding but not picking Lisa’s cup up. “It’s my favourite,” he continued, and it was just awkward enough that Barry wasn’t sure about whether or not Cisco was trying – and failing tremendously – to flirt with her.

“I thought the Pied Piper was your favourite?” Caitlin asked innocently, and Cisco didn’t seem happy at her correction. Definitely flirting, then.

“I can like two things.”

“The Pied Piper, Cisco?” Hartley spoke up, grinning, which Cisco met with a scowl. “I didn’t know you were such a fan.”

“I like cherries and chocolate. Get over yourself,” Cisco said, glaring at Hartley for daring to insinuate that they were anything more than bitter rivals. Barry snorted a laugh, not even attempting to cover his amusement.

While this was all happening, Shawna leant into Barry’s personal space with an apologetic smile on her face, talking low so that no one else at the table could hear her.

“Sorry to blow your secret like that,” she whispered. “I assumed you were here because Lisa invited you too. I didn’t know you were with friends.” Shawna said that without even a touch of a sneer to her voice, which was… odd. Good, but odd.

Barry had always assumed that if any of the Rogues ever found out about his friendship with the members of Team Flash, they would be outraged. But, instead, Shawna and Mark were handling things quite well.

“Pure coincidence,” Barry said, and Shawna nodded. She turned back towards where Hartley and Cisco were bickering about… quantum entanglement?

Barry didn’t quite know how the conversation had so quickly turned from coffee to that, but they seemed happy enough in their argument as everyone else watched on with varying looks of confusion and amusement, so Barry supposed they were doing okay.

“I’m guessing they don’t know about you and err…” Shawna paused, casting her eyes quickly between Barry’s friends sitting on the opposite side of the table before turning her gaze back to his face and dropping her voice even lower. “Captain Cold?”

Barry immediately shook his head. Of course, the truth was that Cait, Cisco, and Ronnie did all know about his friendship with Len. However, given their recent jokes and taunts, Barry didn’t know if he could trust his team not to start blabbering on about how _in love_ Barry supposedly was if Len’s name popped into the conversation.

It was better just to avoid the topic altogether.

“Not entirely,” he lied, and Shawna nodded, tapping her nose as she pulled away to sit fully back in her own seat.

“Mom’s the word,” she promised.

“Okay,” Lisa laughed, standing up from her seat, her left hand on Cisco’s shoulder while her right rested on Hartley’s. “While you boys keep flirting, and everyone else here gets acquainted, I’m going to get our new friends some drinks.” Both Cisco and Hartley looked appalled at the sheer thought of flirting with each other, and Barry had to hold back his laugh. For Cisco, at least, a taste of his own medicine served him right. “So, what will it be?”

The question was directed at Caitlin and Ronnie, neither of whom had really spoken up much since taking their seats amongst the Rogues. Cait glanced to Barry, and he could see the question in her eyes, the ‘ _Can we trust them_?’ lingering there.

Barry didn’t quite know what Caitlin thought was going to happen, whether she thought that Lisa was going to poison her coffee, or steal it from a nearby table, or just flat out force the barista to make it at gunpoint… It was all absurd, of course, the Rogues were criminals, but that wasn’t _all_ that they were. Admittedly, though, it had taken Barry a while to fully come to terms with that; he supposed it was too much to expect his team to accept the Rogues any faster than he had. He didn’t blame them for their mistrust.

So Barry said nothing and just gave Cait one reassuring nod of his head.

Caitlin’s eyes lingered on him for an extra second, but she didn’t so much as question his answer before turning a friendly smile towards Lisa.

“I’ll have the Top, the matcha tea frappe,” she explained. Ronnie seemed surprised by Caitlin’s answer, as though he’d expected her to turn down the offer, but he quickly followed her lead and ordered himself the banana split flavoured frappe that Jitters had named after Gorilla Grodd. Cisco asked for the Golden Glider, which made Lisa grin and wink at him.

When she turned to face Barry, however, she just shook her head and wouldn’t let him order.

“Don’t worry, I have just the thing for you,” Lisa said, moving past him towards the counter, a brief lull in customers ensuring that she didn’t have to wait in a queue. Barry puzzled about what she could have meant by that but ultimately decided not to think about it. Whatever it was, it was inevitable now, so where was the point in worrying? Instead, now that his mind had been brought back to coffee, Barry began to question Shawna’s choice.

“I thought you didn’t like your drink?” he said while Shawna used her straw to stir the coffee and ice cream mixture in her cup. She took a sip of her drink and shrugged.

“I don’t like the message behind it,” she corrected, “but the drink itself isn’t half bad. I mean, it’s chocolate, coffee, and vanilla ice cream… what’s not to like about that?” Barry nodded his agreement there, the Peek-a-Boo was a decent drink on paper, but it was made even better by the fact that Jitters hadn’t skimped out on the ice cream and had bought a brand that was smooth and rich. It was good stuff. “Also,” Shawna shrugged again, grinning, “it’s pretty fun to order a drink named after yourself.”

“Did the baristas recognise you?” Caitlin asked, and Shawna nodded, but she didn’t look worried by that.

“They asked for selfies,” Hartley added in, and Cisco instantly scowled at the sound of his voice.

“Someone wanted a photo of _you_?” he asked, shaking his head, and Hartley smirked wide.

“Jealousy’s not a good look on you.”

“Everything’s a good look on me,” Cisco defended himself, looking proud of his comeback until Cait and Barry both snorted, and he realised he’d just inadvertently admitted to being jealous. “Wait…”

Oh, yeah, payback’s a bitch.

“Sounds like you’ve got an admirer, Hart,” Barry goaded on, and Cisco instantly shot him daggers from across the table. Meanwhile, Ronnie and Caitlin turned to appraise Barry now at the drop of Hartley’s nickname. The question in their eyes was clear: they wanted to know how Barry had become so close to the members on Len’s Rogues.

They deserved the truth, Barry knew, but now wasn’t the time for that, not with the Rogues sitting right here with them. Thankfully, they both seemed to understand that Barry wouldn’t be able to tell them the details until they were alone, and so neither of his friends asked a thing.

“I’d be careful with this one,” Mark warned Hartley, letting out a laugh and settling back in his seat with his arm slung over the back of Shawna’s chair. “Seems like Lisa has plans for him.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Mark,” Lisa said, returning to the table with a young barista following closely behind her, a teenage girl with long red hair done up in a neat plait who looked as though she was having the best day of her life.

The barista lowered the tray she was carrying down onto the table, a tray with four drinks on it: one Golden Glider, one Grodd, one Top, and one glaringly blue iced coffee, which Barry recognised instantly as the Captain Cold.

Cisco immediately let out a snort while Barry grimaced, just waiting for Lisa to make one of her jokes. But, thankfully, she only winked at him and didn’t say a word. Neither did Cisco or Caitlin, which was a blessed surprise, and Barry was just starting to settle down as the conversations around the table continued. That was when Shawna leant back into his space one last time.

“So, there's something I've been wanting to ask you,” she said, “and I figure now's the best time. You know, without Snarty around." Barry was too distracted and amused by the fact that Shawna had just called Len _'Snarty'_ to put any concern into where she was going with this, which he realised was a mistake the second that Shawna continued with: "So, what's the boss like in bed?"

Barry thanked God himself that he was not taking a sip of his drink at the time because he was sure that the coffee would have ended coming back up and out of his nose. Instead, he just choked on his own spit, gasping for breath in between coughs while Shawna smacked him on the back and laughed hysterically. The pair fully succeeded in drawing every eye in the coffee shop.

Caitlin took pity on Barry and stood to lead him outside for some fresh air, so Shawna dipped in close to Barry’s ear, whispering “We’ll pick this back up later” as he was being led away.

“Are you okay?” Cait asked once Barry could breathe again, standing on the pavement outside and safely away from prying ears. Barry shook his head. There was _no way_ he was telling his friends the truth about what Shawna had just asked.

“My… my drink just went down the wrong way,” he lied, staring back inside the coffee shop at the table surrounded by his friends, both Rogues and heroes alike… And Barry only had one question on his mind…

Exactly how many of them thought that he was sleeping with Leonard Snart?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you’ve not read many coldflash fics where Joe not only immediately accepts their relationship, but actually openly encourages it too... I hadn’t actually intended to write that into the story but, idk, it felt right. Joe’s just trying to do right by his son.  
> Just to be clear, Joe’s unhappiness in this chapter wasn’t due to Barry spending more and more time with Len, but because he’s still sad that Barry won’t tell him the truth about his relationship – but Barry isn’t allowed to know that yet ;)
> 
> PS. I just want to clarify here that Len's POV and Barry's POV in this chapter both happened during the same span of time, but I just didn't write the call out in Barry's POV section because I didn't want to have to repeat the same conversation ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those rarer chapters in this fic where everything is a little more serious and sullen. Sorry about that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ it grew to like 20k words – far, _far_ too long for one sole chapter – so I had to split it in half, and all of the feel-good stuff is in the 2nd part :/

The Rogues were the first to leave Jitters – which Cisco was _not_ disappointed by, okay – and Team Flash immediately turned their questioning gaze onto a very awkward Barry Allen.

“Okay,” Barry said, clutching his now-empty coffee cup, “I know you all have questions.”

“You think?” Cisco muttered. He’d thought that all of their secrets were out in the open now, but Barry’s friendship with Weather Wizard, Peek-a-Boo, and – worst of all – _Hartley Rathaway_ had come entirely out of the blue. If it had just been Lisa and Mick Rory, that would have been expected considering who Barry was in love with, but the other Rogues as well?

Cisco couldn’t wait to find out how exactly Barry had become BFFs with so many criminals…

“It’s a long story,” Barry laughed, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I sort of, accidentally, interrupted a Rogues meeting a few weeks ago.”

“Sort of?” Caitlin prompted, and Barry sighed, dropping his hands back onto the table and nodding.

“I was looking for Len’s help on a case we were working, I tracked him down at this dive bar downtown, but he wasn’t alone. One thing led to another, and we had to pretend to be friends to avoid the Rogues asking any questions about who I was.”

“So, this was before you and Leonard started–”

“We’re not dating!” Barry quickly interrupted before Ronnie could finish his sentence, and Cisco and Cait shared a look, the ‘ _not yet_ ’ going unspoken between them. “Sorry,” Barry said, looking embarrassed by his outburst. “I didn’t mean to snap. I know that you all think that something is going on between Len and me, but there isn’t. I had to stick around for that first Rogues meeting to avoid suspicion, and then Lisa and Shawna tracked me down the next week, and after that, it just kind of became a thing.”

“They don’t know who you are, do they?” Ronnie asked cautiously, and Cisco’s stomach dropped as he thought over how that disaster might play out.

“If you mean the Flash?” Barry asked, his voice low as to not be overheard by anyone else in the café, shaking his head. “No. But they know I work for the CCPD.”

Caitlin frowned. “And they’re just okay with that?”

“I guess,” Barry said. “Maybe not everyone, though. Scudder has been a bit tense around me.”

“You’re friends with Mirror Master too?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call us friends,” Barry muttered, and the team finally ran out of questions. “Look, I know this is… unconventional at best, and it wasn’t exactly planned, but Shawna, and Mark, Hartley, Lisa, and Mick… they’re my friends. And I need you guys to be okay with that.”

“We are,” Caitlin answered, and Ronnie nodded along with her.

“Yeah,” Cisco agreed. “I mean, if we can accept you falling in love with Snart, I guess we can accept anything.”

Barry sighed, exasperated, and dropped his head into his hands while Cisco and Caitlin did their best not to laugh. Ronnie, being the one at the table who wasn’t yet looped in on the whole ‘ _get Barry and Snart together_ ’ plan, just looked a little confused, but Cait squeezed his hand to silently reassure her husband that she would fill him in later.

“I have to go,” Barry said, not responding to Cisco’s tease as he stood up from the table, explaining that he was going to be helping Iris with wedding preparations this morning. Then Barry left the coffee shop with a shake of his head and barely another word.

“Anyone going to tell me what’s going on between Barry and Leonard Snart?” Ronnie immediately asked. “You told me they were dating.”

“That’s because we thought they were,” Caitlin admitted, and Cisco nodded along as the two of them looped Cait’s husband in on their suspicions about Barry’s feelings for Leonard.

“You know you guys sound crazy, right?” Ronnie asked, looking between them as though they’d both grown a third head, but Cisco and Cait had been expecting this reaction from him – it was why they hadn’t gone out of their way to fill him in sooner. “Even if Barry does like Leonard, it’s not our place to get involved.”

Cisco was about to argue that, to point out all of the reasons why they were acting in Barry’s best interest, why they were so confident that Barry wouldn’t make a move on Len until after it was already too late, why they were just trying to help a friend out.

But then his phone began to ring, and so Caitlin took on the responsibility of arguing their point with her husband while Cisco dived into his pocket to receive his mobile. The call was coming from an unknown number, but Cisco decided to answer it anyway as he scooched from his seat to take a few steps away from the table, only just now realising that the coffee shop had got _really_ busy again, and they were taking up a large table just between the three of them.

“Hello?” Cisco answered the call as he scanned his eyes through the room, looking for a more reasonable place for himself and his friends to sit together.

“Hello, Cisco,” an extremely familiar voice responded, stopping Cisco in his tracks. He glanced back at the table where Caitlin and Ronnie were still mid-argument. However, it didn’t look like either was taking it very seriously as they were holding hands on top of the table, and Ronnie was giving his wife those sickeningly cute love-bird eyes that always made Caitlin smile; this morning was no exception to that.

“How did you get this number?” Cisco asked, turning his attention fully back to the phone call and hearing Lisa Snart laugh on the other end of it.

“I have my ways,” she drawled. “And I always get what I want.”

“And that is…?”

“To talk.”

“We literally saw each other twenty minutes ago,” Cisco said, not that he was complaining. Still, he had learnt to be suspicious when pretty girls got all flirty with him, particularly when said pretty girl was _Lisa freaking Snart_.

“I’m aware, but this particular conversation would have been counterproductive in front of Barry.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s about him,” she said. “My brother, too, and your plans for the two of them.”

“My plans?” Cisco asked, playing dumb; he turned back to his friends sitting at the table, and he must have looked worried or confused because, when Caitlin caught his eye, she started frowning and sitting up straighter.

“You’re trying to get them together, aren’t you?” Lisa asked, and Cisco searched his memory to recall any hints that he’d given to the Rogues about what he and Caitlin were up to, but he came up empty. “I want in.”

“You want to help us set your brother up with Barry?”

“Exactly.”

“Is everything alright?” Caitlin asked, standing from her seat to step towards him. He gave her a shaky nod. “Who are you talking to?”

“I’m sending you my address,” Lisa said before Cisco could think of a reply. “Don’t let me down.”

And then the line went dead.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen for a moment before glancing back up at his friend.

“That was Lisa Snart,” he said to Caitlin, and Ronnie stood from his seat now too, relinquishing the table for the other Jitters goers. Cisco gave a quick summary of the conversation to his friends, both of whom looked very confused.

“How does she know about that?” Ronnie asked, and Cisco shrugged. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand with a new message, opening it up to see the address that Lisa had just promised to send him.

“Are we really considering this?” Caitlin asked as Cisco saved Lisa’s number to his phone, the shock of the call beginning to wear off now. “What if she’s trying to trap us?”

“To what end?” Cisco asked. “Snart already knows Barry’s secret. They have no reason to try anything.”

Someone was trying to walk around them towards the exit now, and so Caitlin sidestepped out of their way before she turned back to Cisco and sighed. “Are you sure your, err… judgement isn’t impaired here.”

“By what?” Cisco asked, realising what Caitlin was suggesting only when she refused to meet his gaze. “Hey, come on, I thought we were trying to set _Barry_ up with a supervillain this month?” he joked before mumbling: “We can look at me next month.”

“Deal,” Caitlin laughed, and Ronnie shook his head.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is insane?” he asked, and now it was Cisco’s turn to avoid eye contact as Caitlin laughed.

“Sorry, Babe,” she said, reaching out for his hand once more.

Ronnie placed a kiss on the back of his wife’s knuckles before shaking his head. “I’m not going to stop you guys, but I can’t be a part of this either.” Caitlin nodded, and he pressed a second kiss on her lips this time. "Please be safe. I love you. I'll see you at home."

"Love you, too,” she immediately answered and let go of his hand while he sighed and stepped away. Caitlin waited until Ronnie was walking out of the door before she turned back to Cisco and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Cisco led Cait out the back exit towards his van, setting the location on his phone’s navigation app, and they discussed their options as he drove. They arrived at the waterfront apartment only fifteen minutes later. Lisa was sitting out front on a bench next to the river and waved at them as they got out of the van.

“Glad you two could make it,” she said, patting the seat to invite them both to sit with her. She eyed Caitlin for a moment, tapping her nails against the arm of the bench. “Your husband decided not to join us?”

“Ronnie doesn’t like the idea of meddling in Barry’s life.”

“Don’t think of it as meddling,” Lisa said, turning back to the calm water in front of them. It was still only morning, but the sun was already so hot that it created ripples of heat above the surface. “Think of it as… encouragement.” Lisa smiled, looking at them out of the corner of her eye. “A not-so-gentle nudge in the right direction.”

“Yeah, well, Barry’s stubborn,” Cisco said. “It might take more than a nudge.”

“Then I guess we better get started right away,” Lisa smiled, turning to face them both fully again now. “Tonight.”

Caitlin shook her head. “Barry has plans.”

“You mean the fitting? How late do you think a tailor stays open on a Saturday night?” Lisa asked, and Cisco frowned, not having really thought too deeply into Barry’s excuse until now. “Barry and the others are booked in for half five; they’ll be all packed up and out of there long before seven o’clock comes around.”

“Why would Barry lie to us about that?” Cisco asked, admittedly a little hurt by the fact his friend was _still_ keeping secrets from them. First, it was about Leonard, then the rest of the Rogues, and now this too? Where did it end?

And yes, okay, Cisco was thinking clearly enough to recognise that he was probably – almost definitely – being a little hypocritical right now, considering the fact he was literally right this moment discussing plans to set Barry up with Snart. Plans which he was definitely keeping a secret from Barry. However, that was beside the point!

“Probably because he knows you’re up to something,” Lisa answered. “You two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“How would you know that?” Caitlin asked. “In fact, how do you about any of this?”

“Simple,” Lisa shrugged. “I bugged Barry’s phone yesterday.”

“ _What_?” Caitlin demanded, panicking alongside Cisco.

“Oh, crap.”

“Did you, err…”

“How much did you…”

“Are you trying to ask me if I know that Barry’s the Flash?” Lisa asked innocently, halting their rambling by confirming their fears.

Oh, this was _so_ not good. One Snart sibling knowing Barry’s secret was bad enough!

“Calm down,” Lisa said, rolling her eyes at their reaction, “I’ve known for months.” Wait… what? How could she have found out Barry’s secret months ago if she only bugged his phone yesterday? Confused, Cisco shared a look with Caitlin, but Lisa only continued to smirk at their bewilderment, not offering up any form of explanation besides her drawled: “I’m not an idiot.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Cisco muttered, while Caitlin piped up with: “Do any of the other Rogues know?”

“Just Mickey.”

“Mickey…?” Cisco asked, frowning before he suddenly realised who Lisa was talking about. “Wait, _Heatwave_?” he demanded, beginning to feel a little lightheaded. It was a good thing he was already sitting down. “That’s… that’s great.”

 _Not_!

“Don’t be so judgemental,” Lisa said, affronted. “Mick’s not going to tell anyone.”

“Sorry if we’re a little concerned that the man who has kidnapped the both of us now knows who the Flash is,” Caitlin said, crossing her arms and not looking any happier than Cisco felt.

“Lenny also kidnapped you,” Lisa pointed out, “but you’ve forgiven him.”

“Forgiven is a… a strong word,” Cait said. “We’ve accepted it.”

“But you’ve forgiven _me_ , haven’t you, Cisco?”

Cisco didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know how he felt about what had gone on between himself and Lisa, didn’t know if he could really move past it, didn’t know if Lisa even wanted him to or if this was all just some game to her. Thankfully, Caitlin stepped in so that Cisco didn’t need to answer.

“Listen, we just want what’s best for Barry.”

“And I want what’s best for my brother,” Lisa said. She sounded genuine enough, though Cisco guessed it always was difficult to tell when a Snart was lying. He kept thinking, though, what could Lisa actually get out of this if it was all just a game? And to that, Cisco had no answer. “Which just so happens to mean that the three of us want the same thing,” she continued, and Cisco realised that he believed her.

“Okay,” he nodded, and Caitlin shot him an expression of disbelief. He took a deep breath and looked calmly back to his friend, doing his best to silently reassure Caitlin that he knew what he was doing. After a moment, she nodded, putting her faith in him. Cisco sighed and continued to Lisa with: “Well… we have a plan.”

“Yes, I heard it. The kiss cam.” She didn’t sound impressed. “I’ll give you points for creativity, but I don’t think it’s exactly the best way to go about this.”

“Why not?” Caitlin asked, and Lisa laughed as though it were obvious.

“For one,” she said, standing up from the bench and walking a few steps towards the water before turning back on her heels to face them, hands rested on her hips. “Do you really think your friend is going to like his and Lenny’s first kiss to be part of some gimmick broadcasted to thousands of people in the stadium and even more worldwide?”

When Cisco thought about it that way… he supposed he could see the flaw there. But it could still work!

“And that’s without adding in the fact that my brother is a wanted criminal,” Lisa continued. “I’m not too keen on seeing his face up there on that Jumbotron, no matter what.”

“Okay, points taken,” Cisco said, admitting that they hadn’t really thought the whole thing through yet.

“What do you have in mind instead?”

Lisa grinned, looking absolutely devilish at Caitlin’s question. “I just think that those boys could do with some alone time, don’t you?”

[] [] []

“Sam?” Rosa called from the other room, and Sam could hear her footsteps on the carpeted floor as she searched the house for him. Sam didn’t call back for her, too distracted by the images flashing in front of his eyes. He had one hand rested against a mirror in front of him, and through that hand, he was channelling his powers, using the mirror as a window that connected him to every other mirror inside Central City. Searching.

He knew where his target lived – that information had been easy enough to track down – but he’d never so much as stepped foot inside that house, and guiding his powers to show him inside was a little more complicated when he didn’t know where the exact location of the mirrors were in relation to himself. Still, Sam sat there and concentrated, feeling his eyes go sore as hundreds upon hundreds of images flashed quickly in front of him, all of them wrong; the wrong mirror, the wrong room, the wrong house. Every single one.

Until, suddenly, he found it, his target: Bartholomew Henry Allen.

Sam sat back, exhausted, and smiled.

“What are you doing?” Rosa asked, standing in the doorway. Sam knew that she didn’t quite mean it literally. She knew _what_ he was doing, could see it with her own eyes, but she didn’t understand the _why_. To what end? What was his plan here?

“I haven’t decided yet,” he admitted, watching his mirror closely while Barry sat at a table covered entirely in catalogues. There was a woman next to him, a girl with brown skin, black hair, a broad smile, and expressive hands.

“Then stop before you get us both killed,” Rosa demanded, surprising Sam enough that he looked away from his mirror and towards his girlfriend instead. She looked worried, tired, angry. Sam stood up from his chair and walked over to Rosa, laying his hand on her arm.

“Do you doubt me?” he asked, pleased when Rosa immediately shook her head, not even needing to think her answer through.

“You know I don’t,” she said, but her eyes easily slid away from Sam’s and towards the mirror instead, where Barry and this unknown woman remained seated and talking casually, neither of them any wiser that the mirrors had eyes, feeding information back to Sam at his command. “But we can’t underestimate Snart,” Rosa continued. “We’ve already made that mistake once this year, and I’m not in any rush to make it again.”

“So, you’re just happy stuck under his thumb?” Sam asked, turning his glare and anger back to his girlfriend, though he hadn’t really meant to direct it at her like that. Rosa immediately pulled out of his grip.

“Better to be under his thumb than on the receiving end of that gun.”

“Snart won’t kill us,” Sam said, taking a step back to show that he wasn’t after a fight here. Not with Rosa, at least. “He’s gone weak, not the same crook that he once was.” Sam gestured back towards the mirror, shaking his head. “Barry Allen made sure of that.”

“You think that love makes you weak?” Rosa sounded angry, and rightly so. Sam hadn’t meant for his words to come out sounding like that. It wasn’t what he believed, and he needed Rosa to understand that.

“Not our love,” he said. He reached his had forward, up towards Rosa’s cheek, but he didn’t touch her skin. Not yet. Not after she’d so recently pulled away from him. But it seemed that Rosa had forgiven Sam his little outburst as she slowly stepped into his reach, letting Sam’s hand rest against her cheek as she raised her own hand to intertwine their fingers together.

“Good,” she said, but she still seemed bothered by Sam’s actions. “Now stop spying on Snart’s boyfriend before _I_ kill you.”

Sam didn’t think twice about loosening his hold on the mirror world, letting it slip through his fingers as the images on his mirror faded into nothing, leaving only their own reflection behind to see.

“Happy?” he asked, and Rosa smiled, pulling him into a hug.

“Always,” she said, resting her head against his chest and sighing. “If you want to go up against Snart, then we will,” Rosa promised. “But we have to do this smart, and the two of us against all of them?” She shook her head; Sam could feel it against his chest as much as see it in their reflection. “That isn’t smart.”

“Then how about we even our numbers a little?”

Rosa pulled back from the embrace, smiling up at him.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

[] [] []

“Are you okay?” Iris asked, sounding concerned, and Barry nodded at her. “You just seem a little quiet.”

I’m fine,” Barry insisted, though it wasn’t _entirely_ the truth. In some ways, it felt as though a large part of his world had just exploded. After what had happened this morning at Jitters, how was Barry supposed to face his team? How was he going to tell them that they were delusional for thinking that he and Len were sleeping together when it seemed as though _everyone_ thought that? He’d barely managed to suffer through an explanation for them this morning before bolting out of there like a bat out of hell.

“What’s bothering you?”

Honestly, where did Barry even _begin_?

He shook his head; he didn’t want to get into this now, didn’t even know where he should start. Instead, he picked up a random catalogue off the table and began idly flicking through it as a way to distract himself and keep busy. The distraction actually seemed to work once Barry came across a pamphlet buried deep between the pages, a picture on the front of it which Barry had _not_ been expecting to see.

“Well, for one thing, I’m starting to worry about what the waiters will be wearing at your reception,” Barry joked, holding the pamphlet up for Iris to see. She blushed and snatched it out of his hands, looking mortified. “I know it's your wedding, and you can have whatever makes you happy, but I really think they should have more on than a dickie bow and a thong."

"It's for the bachelorette party,” Iris defended herself, thoroughly distracted from Barry’s woes again now. “Not that I’m actually considering strippers. Linda suggested them but..." She shook her head, and Barry laughed, though it felt a little tight in his throat from the casual name-drop. Thinking about Linda only served to bring back up one of Barry’s many, many dilemmas.

Iris, having folded up the pamphlet and stashed it away out of sight again, was giving Barry that look. She knew something was up, and Barry knew that she wouldn’t let it drop so quickly, but he couldn’t tell her about Len; it was just too complicated and confusing.

"So, Linda's coming to the wedding?" he asked instead, and Iris nodded.

"Yeah, she's making the trip over from Coast City for a week."

"That's nice."

Iris frowned. " _That's nice_?" she repeated, and Barry immediately felt terrible: this wasn’t about him. Linda was Iris’ friend, and so, of course, she would be coming to the wedding. Barry tried to shrug it off, but Iris wasn’t letting up with her questioning gaze.

"Well, you know, she's my ex..."

"I didn't think you two ever got serious?"

"We didn't! But... I don't know,” Barry shrugged. “Joe's been going on at me about bringing a date, and so I guess my past failures have been haunting me." It was true.

It was _also_ true that the Leonard Snart conversation had also brought up a lot of confusing thoughts and questions about himself as well as his past relationships and how they had gone wrong.

"Well, she's not coming with a date either,” Iris said, a sparkle in her eyes which Barry did not like. “Maybe you two could..."

"No," Barry insisted before Iris could even finish her sentence, shaking his head. The _last_ thing Barry needed was another _not-really-a-love-interest_ being pushed by one of his friends. "No, Linda was great. _Is_ great. But she's just not right for me, you know what I mean?"

"I do." Iris smiled softly, her eyes warm and bright and filled with a personal understanding. She knew as well as anyone else did that just because you met someone great, someone who understood you and who you understood in return, didn’t mean that they were the right one for you to be with. Life was more complicated than that. "Well, if you don't want Linda,” Iris continued, “then who do you want?"

"I don't know,” Barry admitted, even as the thought of blue eyes and a sly smile sprung to mind. But thinking about Len now was only natural, given how all of his friends were so insistent about Barry’s feelings.

"Really?" Iris asked. "Because your face is saying otherwise." Barry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Come on, who's the girl?"

"There is no girl," he muttered, his voice slightly muffled.

"A guy then?" Barry didn’t answer that. He refused to play this game with Iris as well as everyone else! Iris, however, wholly misunderstood his silence. "Oh, Barry, no! You have the _worst_ taste in men."

"I do not!" Barry answered, lifting his head again to defend himself.

“Yeah? Tell that to your first boyfriend,” she said. “What was his name again? Jimmy? Jamie?”

“Jason,” Barry corrected, and Iris nodded her head.

“That boy had rage issues.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Barry said, rolling his eyes. Jason had been dealt a bad hand in life, but he wasn’t a bad guy, no matter how many times Joe had insisted on it.

“Didn’t he get thrown into Arkham?” Iris continued, though she was only teasing. When Jason and his mother had packed up and moved to Gotham, their high school’s rumour mill had gone wild with ridiculous claims – the Arkham one being the most prominent of the lot – but none of them had been right, and Iris knew that as well as Barry did. “And after Jason, there was that guy in the motorcycle gang.”

“Owning a bike does not automatically mean you’re in a gang.”

“Then that college professor, which was thankfully unrequited there because that could have gone _very_ wrong, after that you started mooning over–”

Iris stopped herself, but Barry knew precisely where she’d been going with that one. Harrison Wells, or Eobard Thawne, really. The thought of it now that they knew the truth about who Wells – or, at least, who the Wells of _this_ Earth – really was made Barry sick.

“Then there was _the Arrow_ of all people,” Iris quickly moved on, not letting the Reverse Flash ruin another second of their day.

"Hey, you had a thing for Ollie too!"

"Don't change the subject,” she protested, and Barry laughed. “And, anyway, Oliver was an outlier for me. For you, he was a pattern. I mean, you even liked Sn-”

Iris, and their entire conversation, was interrupted by Barry’s phone ringing. Barry immediately took the call, thankful for the disruption. Iris, knowing exactly what Barry was doing, rolled her eyes at his play.

“Hey, Barr,” Joe said on the other end of the phone call, “are you on your way?”

“My way?” Barry questioned, mentally running through all of his plans for this weekend and realising with a start that he was late for the suit fitting. “To the tailors!” Barry finished for himself. “Right. Yes. I didn’t forget,” he lied, and Iris huffed out an amused laugh. “I’ll be right there.”

“You better be,” Joe muttered. He wasn’t a fan of Eddie’s brother – though, to be fair, Joe wasn’t a fan of many people, particularly when he’d first met them – and probably didn’t appreciate being there without Barry to back him up.

“I…” Barry shook his head and turned to Iris, giving her an apologetic smile.

“Go,” she told him. “Don’t keep my future-husband waiting.” Barry nodded and zipped over to the coat stand to grab his jacket. “I’ll lock up when I leave,” Iris continued, and Barry smiled in thanks before he took off running out of Joe’s house and towards the store downtown where Eddie, Joe, and the other groomsmen were waiting for him.

“I’m outside,” Barry finally finished his sentence once he dropped out of superspeed a couple of blocks away. He hung up the call and finished the rest of the walk at a human pace, pushing open the store door and following the signs to lead him towards the fitting area at the back.

“Finally,” Joe muttered upon seeing him. Eddie’s brother and best friend were here too – both already dressed in their suits – while Eddie himself was out of sight, seemingly getting changed in one of the stalls.

“Sorry I’m late,” Barry said, digging his hands awkwardly into his jacket pockets. “I was helping Iris with some wedding prep.”

“All that matters is you’re here now,” Joe said loudly, patting Barry on the shoulder. Then, in a much quieter voice, he said: “to keep me from pulling a gun on one of these idiots.” He sounded entirely serious. “If they don’t stop joking about how getting married to my daughter is gonna be the death of Eddie, then _I’m_ gonna be the death of _them_.”

“Mr Allen?” one of the tailors called, holding a suit bag in his arms, and Barry moved forward to take it and get dressed, hoping that Joe could manage just a little while longer without him. Though he did understand where Joe was coming from, he hated those kinds of ‘ball-and-chain’ jokes too.

A few minutes later, once Barry was fully dressed, he left the stall and saw Eddie standing alongside his brother as one of the tailors made some adjustments to the groom-to-be’s dark grey three-piece suit. Eddie grinned at Barry and gave him a wave, which Barry returned before he was called forward by another tailor to check the fit of his own black suit. He stood there awkwardly in front of the mirror for a while as the tailor worked.

Finally still and silent for the first time all day, with nothing to do other than look at his reflection and raise and lower his hands as and when directed to, Barry’s mind began to drift. Drift to the one thought that he had spent all day trying to suppress. And now the conversation he’d had with Shawna this morning about his and Len’s supposed sex-life came to mind.

Barry had no answer, of course, to her question because he and Len had never… _would_ never…

No, Barry didn’t know how Len was in bed.

Though, it would be lying to say he didn’t have any theories. Not that Barry had been putting any thought into this! Just, when it had crossed his mind… Well, Barry found it hard not to picture Len as being anything less than fully competent in _any_ situation. The way that Barry had seen Leonard, confident and in control in all other aspects of his life, meant that Barry struggled to imagine any situation or room which Len didn’t know his way around, the bedroom included.

The way that Len swaggered and flirted, drawled and teased, was the way of a man who knew that he gave excellent hea-

No.

Barry was _not_ thinking about that. And he _definitely_ wasn’t thinking about it while in public when he had a stranger kneeling in front of him and checking the length of his pants. The last thing Barry needed right now was another situation down there…

Barry wasn’t going to think about Leonard Snart. He wasn’t.

What he _was_ going to think about was how all of his friends _thought that the two of them were dating_!

How had that even happened?!

How could someone ever look at himself and Len and go ‘ _yep, they’re screwing_ ’. It just made no sense!

And did Len know about this? He seemed not to know about Lisa, since he’d assured Barry just yesterday that she was only joking when she’d inferred they were sleeping together, but what about Shawna? And did Mick feel the same way as the others? He’d laughed at a few of Lisa’s jokes, so maybe he thought there was some truth behind her taunts as well. Or what about Mark Mardon? He was dating Shawna, so it only made sense that they’d probably mentioned it – even if only in passing – at least once in these past few months. Was it months? Or weeks? Or days?

How long had this been going on for without either Barry or Len realising?

“You alright?” Joe asked, interrupting Barry’s internal freak-out and bringing him back to the store they stood in. He realised that the tailor had finished and left, and Barry wondered just how long ago that had been… How long had he been staring aimlessly into his own reflection?

"Me? Yeah, yes, I'm great. I guess I'm just a bit... a bit tired, is all."

It wasn’t entirely true, nor was it the first time someone had called him out for acting odd today, as Iris had brought it up several times while she’d been over at the house too. And now he was here getting fitted for his suit, _hours_ after his run-in with the Rogues this morning, and yet Barry still was struggling to focus on anything else.

"Right...” Joe nodded before glancing over his shoulder to make sure Eddie’s brother and best friend weren’t within hearing range before he spoke his next words. “This hasn't got anything to do with Leonard Snart, has it?”

If by that, Joe meant how seemingly every single one of Barry's friends thought that he and Len were sleeping together, then yes. Yes, it absolutely had everything to do with Leonard Snart.

"No," Barry lied, shaking his head. To be fair, his lie was for as much Joe's sake as it was his own. Sure, Joe was doing okay with the concept of Barry and Len as friends, but he would surely lose his cool – pun intended – if he found out about everyone's assumptions. Barry was just trying to save him from that. Really. "No. Like I said, I'm just tired."

“Father of the bride?” the tailor – the same one who had been checking the fit of Barry’s suit only moments ago – called to Joe, beckoning him forward. Joe nodded, giving Barry one last cautious once over before heading back to try on his suit. Barry managed to keep a smile on his face until Joe had left the vicinity, then he turned back to his reflection in the mirror.

Barry tried to focus solely on his appearance, to think about nothing more than how he looked and felt in this suit. It was a different one than what Eddie wore so that Eddie’s would stand-out. This one was a simple black three-piece, coupled with a white shirt and a purple tie with a matching pocket square. The best man – Eddie’s brother – and Joe were going to be wearing the same suit as Barry, but unlike the rest of the groomsmen, their vests would be dark grey to match Eddie’s suit. It was all going to be very classic. Picture-perfect, just like Iris deserved.

The suit was nice; the material was soft and comfortable, and Barry thought that it looked good on, too. He considered grabbing his phone to snap a picture of himself to show to his friends, but Barry stopped himself before he made a move, realising that Len was on the top of that list of people Barry wanted to send this photo to. And perhaps doing things like _that_ was precisely the reason why everyone thought that they were sleeping together in the first place!

But did that mean that Barry should start changing how he spoke and acted around Len? Why should he? Just because his friends thought that he was in love with Leonard Snart didn’t mean that Barry needed to change, to start policing his every action. Len made Barry feel happy, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. And even if Barry did have feelings for Len outside of their friendship – which he _didn’t_ – then there was nothing wrong with that. Len was a great guy! Sure, he was a thief, there was just no getting around that particular career choice, but he was so much more than that. He was…

Well, Len was a bit of an asshole, actually. Always smirking, and teasing, and doing everything he possibly could to get a rise out of Barry. But, beneath that, he was compassionate. Sure, the list of people that Leonard Snart actually gave a damn about was admittedly short. But, to those on it, Len was one of the most caring people you could imagine. He would put his life on the line over and over again to keep those he considered family safe. And Barry liked to think that _he_ had made it onto that list now too.

On top of that, Len was funny; he made Barry laugh, and his _own_ smile – when it did eventually peek out from behind that playful smirk of his – was contagious and made Barry feel like he’d won the lottery just to be on the receiving end of it.

Len was smart, smart enough to continually outwit Barry and his team even without superpowers.

He was confident and challenging and maybe a little annoying at times too, but in a good way. In a way that could make you smile and roll your eyes and laugh. He could push Barry’s buttons, but he never took things too far, not since they actually got to know each other, anyway. Not since they became Barry and Len rather than the Flash and Captain Cold.

Len was so many little things that made Barry feel happy, and respected, and cared for. And, well, he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes either.

Barry would be lucky to ever have the love of a guy like that.

And maybe one day he would, but that day wasn’t today, and Barry could really do without the repeated reminders of that from his friends. Reminders which only made Barry’s chest hurt and stomach knot, and told him that he just wasn’t good enough.

Barry shook his head, hurt, and confused, and angry. He didn’t know who he was angry _at,_ though. At Caitlin or Cisco? At Lisa? Mick? Shawna? Even Sam Scudder had made his remarks about it!

Or maybe Barry was just angry at himself.

He shook his head, turning away from his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look so great anymore; he was too pale under these bright shop lights, the purple of his tie pulling all of the colours from his face, and Barry didn’t want to see himself any longer. He grabbed at the tie, loosening it from around his neck and pulling it off, wanting this whole thing to just be over with so that he could go back home and distract himself from his thoughts with some TV.

Barry’s agitation must have been palpable because, before he’d even removed his tie, Eddie had come up to him and attempted to lay his hand on Barry’s shoulder. "What's wrong, Barr?"

"Nothing!" Barry snapped, beginning to get a little frustrated now. He immediately regretted it, though. None of this was Eddie's fault, and Barry shouldn't have taken it out on him. The fight deflated out of his shoulders and voice as quickly as it had come on. "Sorry," Barry apologised, feeling embarrassed as he glanced around the room and saw everyone’s eyes on him. "I've just had a difficult morning."

Eddie seemed to appraise him for a little while, though Barry had no idea what it was that he was seeing. There was so much running through Barry’s head right now that he could barely even tell how he was feeling himself. Except confused, of course. There was no denying that there was a hell of a lot of confusion up there.

"Are we asking too much of you?" Eddie finally asked, and Barry frowned, unsure where this was coming from.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... _this_ ,” he said, gesturing at the suit Barry was wearing. “The wedding, a groomsman, is it too much? Iris will understand if you can't be in the wedding party. You can say no."

"No," Barry said immediately and then winced. "I mean, yes... I mean, I'm okay!” He shook his head, sighing at the big mess he was making of everything. But there was one thing, at least, that he could put straight. “I want to be a part of your wedding,” Barry insisted, willing Eddie to hear the truth behind his words. “I'm happy for you guys. Excited, even. This has absolutely nothing to do with–" _the fact that Barry used to be madly in love with the bride-to-be_ "– _that_. I promise you."

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, and Barry sighed in relief to know that his friend believed him. “Well, is there anything I can do to help you with… whatever it is that’s bugging you?” Only if Eddie was somehow able to convince every single one of Barry’s friends that he wasn’t having sex with Len… Or, at the very least, explain to Barry _why_ exactly everyone thought that in the first place!

“Thanks for the offer, but…” Barry shook his head. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” He put a smile on his face, feeling terrible for dragging all of the fun out of this evening, which was something that Eddie had been so happy and excited for. “You look great, by the way,” Barry said, gesturing at Eddie’s suit and watching as Eddie’s whole face lit up.

“You think?”

“Yeah,” Barry nodded. “Iris is going to be blown away when she sees you in this.”

“Then that’ll make two of us,” Eddie laughed. “I can’t wait to see her in her dress.” There was so much happiness behind his eyes, and Barry’s smile turned a little more genuine because of it. He really _was_ happy for them. “She’s always beautiful, you know. Every second of every day. But when I finally get to see her walking down that aisle, I might just pass out.”

“I’ll make sure there’s a chair at the ready for you,” Barry said. He had already seen the dress, Iris had shown him pictures of herself wearing it this morning, and he could attest to how beautiful she’d looked. It was strange to think that, only last year, Barry would have felt sick at the mere thought of watching Iris marry another man. Now, he was just glad that she’d found someone who cared for her as profoundly as Eddie did.

Their conversation was interrupted by Barry’s phone ringing. He gave Eddie an apologetic smile before picking it up from the nearby table and pressing accept, hoping that Caitlin wasn’t calling about any Flash-type emergency because he doubted the silk in the lining of this suit would stand up well to the test of his superspeed.

“Hey, Barry,” she said while Eddie backed away to give him and his phone call some privacy. “I know you’re busy tonight, but do you think Leonard would be willing to come down to the lab for a check-up?”

“A check-up?” Barry asked, unsure of whether or not he should be suspicious about this sudden request. On the one hand, this was the first Caitlin was speaking of it, and that seemed awfully odd. But on the other hand, Barry supposed it made sense to keep a close eye on Len’s injury.

“Yeah, it’s just… it’s been a week since he got frostbitten, and we thought it would be good to check on his condition, you know? I feel bad that I’ve not really given it much thought, but I guess time just got away from me.”

“Does it have to be tonight?” Barry asked. Despite what he’d told his friends yesterday, this fitting wasn’t actually going to take that much longer, and he would be ready to go within the hour. However, Barry did feel the need to test the waters a little here, just in case.

“Yes. Yes, I know it’s a bit last-minute, but, err, Ronnie and I have plans tomorrow,” she said. “It’s our… anniversary.”

“I thought you got married in May?” Barry questioned. He’d been at the wedding, after all, and it was kind of hard to forget that date when it also happened to be the same day he’d travelled back in time and failed to save his mother’s life.

“Yes, we did,” Cait said. “This is a different anniversary. It’s of… of the first time I tried Thai food.”

That pulled Barry up short, and he frowned down at his phone before bringing it back to his ear and asking: “That’s an anniversary for you?”

“I’m joking!” Caitlin laughed. “Obviously, the day is more significant than that. It… The first time we had Thai food together was also the first time that we said I love you.” Well, that made more sense. “I probably should have led with that.”

Still, there was something off about her story. It had only been yesterday that she and Cisco had been all but begging Barry to go out for drinks with them. Why would she do that if tomorrow was an important day for her?

And the fact that this whole thing is about Leonard didn’t help matters any… Barry still wasn’t convinced that his team wasn’t up to anything.

“Anyway, this week has just gone by so fast that I lost track of the date,” Caitlin continued. “I didn’t realise how long it’s been since Leonard was injured, and I really should do a check-up to make sure he’s healing well.”

Barry nodded to himself. He still didn’t know what Caitlin was playing at, but did it matter? Len was hurt, and Cait was willing to help him. There might have been some sort of ulterior motive there – in fact, Barry was pretty sure about that part – but beggars can’t be choosers. And if Barry wanted to make sure Len was as okay as he said, then maybe whatever Cait and Cisco were planning was just the price he’d have to pay for peace of mind.

“I might be done here sooner than I thought,” Barry told her, “so I’ll give Len a call and see what I can do.”

Regardless of the mess that was running through Barry’s head today, he would do whatever it took to make sure Len was okay. Because that’s what _friends_ were for.

[] [] []

Len had spent most of his Saturday alone with his thoughts which was, frankly, more preferable than what happened after his sister dropped by unannounced for dinner. She let herself in, emptied his cupboards, decided that all of his food was crap, and then ordered them a pizza, which she had made Len pay for, of course. Lisa had _also_ done meticulous work at mocking the cane that Len had started using to help himself get around more accessibly.

“It’s not a walking stick,” Len growled for what felt like the 50th time today, and Lisa smiled innocently back at him.

“Whatever you say, Grampa.” Oh, why did Len put up with her? “Would you prefer a zimmer frame? I’m sure I could lift one from the old people’s home down the street; their locks are pathetic.”

Len sighed as he took his seat opposite Lisa at his kitchen table, gritting his teeth at the way his injured thigh twinged in pain. He hooked his cane onto the back of his chair and took a slice of pizza. It was a vegetarian option. Not exactly Len’s favourite, but he wasn’t going to complain; Lisa was a lot stricter when it came to their religious restrictions, whereas Len was more of a non-practising Jew most of the time. She didn’t mind that about him, though she would berate him about it every so often when she felt in the mood for an argument. Like she seemed to be today… His sister had always been a bit of a pain in his ass – Len supposed he was to blame for that, considering she’d learnt everything she knew from him – but she wasn’t usually _this_ annoying.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Len asked. _Again_. And, once again, Lisa only smiled and shook her head, waiting until she’d finished her bite of pizza before she answered.

“Just keeping my big bro company.”

 _Fantastic_.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Len drawled, “but I have the feeling that this isn’t all that’s going on here.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Lenny?” Lisa asked, fake-affronted. Len watched her like a hawk while he took a bite of his pizza slice, but nothing on her face gave away what she was up to. “And to think I wasted my vote on you this morning.”

“Your vote?” Len asked, and noticed his sister’s mask crack a little around the corner of her mouth before she gave up and began to grin.

“At Jitters,” she clarified, and Len groaned in annoyance. Not that damn drink again! “We had a little team bonding time this morning. I would have invited you, but… well, frankly, you can get a little grumpy sometimes, and I didn’t want you to ruin the mood.”

“Delightful.” Len couldn’t wait until the month was over and this competition was gone along with it.

His phone began to ring as Len was reaching for a third slice of pizza, and he had to struggle out of his seat, using his cane to help him cross the kitchen so that he could fetch his cell from the counter.

Lisa laughed. “My offer for the zimmer frame still stands.” Len just ignored her, which was pretty easy to do once he saw who was calling him: Barry.

Len’s heart fluttered in that stupid way that it did whenever he thought about the kid, taking his breath away and making him feel a little lightheaded and weak – okay, weak _er_ – at the knees.

He immediately accepted the call, leaning back against the kitchen counter to take a little of the weight off his leg.

“Hey,” Barry greeted, his voice was soft and rich, and it brought a smile to Len’s face.

“I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me,” Len teased. It was already gone six o’clock, and Barry had usually called him to chat at least once by this time in the afternoon. Admittedly, when Len hadn’t heard anything from Barry since this morning, he had been considering picking the phone up to check on the kid. Not that Barry _needed_ anyone to check up on him; he was one of the most capable men that Len had ever met. But, then again, _Len_ also didn’t need anyone fawning over him to make sure he was alright, but he sure didn’t mind it when said person was Barry, either. In fact, Len had been only moments away from calling the kid when Lisa had shown her face at his house and proceeded to bug him half to death for the next ninety-six minutes and eleven seconds.

“Not exactly,” Barry replied, a little more seriously than what Len had been expecting. “I just had a weird day, sorry.”

“I think I can forgive you,” Len drawled, trying his best to hear that wonderful laugh of Barry’s again. That laugh which almost made him feel like all of the crap in his life, in the world, was worth it. It was strange; Len had never really considered himself to be sappy or sentimental, but that all changed whenever he was with Barry.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Barry asked, and for one beautiful, gut-wrenching moment, Len actually thought that Barry was asking him out. But then his common sense kicked in. Barry’s tone of voice didn’t sound like that of a man laying his heart on the line for the prospect of a date, and Len should know better than to hope for anything.

“Depends on what you have in mind,” Len said, his voice guarded.

“Well, Caitlin thought you could do with a check-up,” Barry said, confirming Len’s suspicions. However, already knowing that Barry wasn’t asking him out didn’t make the truth of it hurt any less.

Len thought about what Barry _was_ offering, though; he knew that he should probably agree, if only so that he could see Barry again and finally talk things through. Plus, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have an excuse for kicking Lisa out of his house for the rest of the night.

But… Len just wasn’t sure if he was ready to have that talk yet.

Once Barry knew the truth, everything could change. Or nothing could. Len didn’t know which option he liked less. He didn’t want Barry to pull away from him, but he also didn’t know how much longer he could take this for: knowing that he was in love with Barry Allen, but not admitting it… It was torture, and Len wasn’t exactly a sadist. He didn’t enjoy inflicting pain on anyone, particularly not on himself.

“You know, you don’t need to come by if you don’t want to,” Barry – clearly getting nervous with the prolonged silence – began to babble into Len’s ear from the other end of the call. “But I did promise Caitlin that I’d try to convince you, and it probably _is_ in your best interest to make sure that your leg is healing fine.” That would have been a good point if Len was a little more concerned about his leg and a little less concerned about his heart. “Plus, it would be good to see you again,” Barry continued, and Len swore that the ups and downs of this conversation were going to put him into cardiac arrest. “I know I saw you yesterday, but there’s something I think we need to talk about and… well, it’s probably best not to do that kind of thing over the phone, you know? Nothing bad! I promise. I just–”

“Barry,” Len interrupted, succeeding in getting him to go quiet. It wasn’t that Len particularly minded when Barry went into one of his rambles, but today was different. Today, Len just needed a second to breathe and think properly, to decide whether or not it was the right time to bring Barry the truth.

“Ooh, I should have guessed you were talking to your boyfriend,” Lisa cooed, gaining Len’s attention and reminding him that he wasn’t alone in his kitchen. “Your eyes got all lovey-dovey for a moment there. That only happens when you’re talking to him. Or when you’re planning a heist but, hey, no judgement here.” Len shot her a flat look, but she just grinned back, looking far too suspicious for his liking. “Tell him that this morning was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

“Hold on one second, Barry,” Len said into the phone before taking it entirely away from his ear to stare his little sister down. “This morning?” he asked, waiting for Lisa to clarify and already not enjoying where this was heading.

“I told you, we went for coffee,” she said, innocent as ever, and Len’s grip tightened on his cane as he took a couple of careful steps back towards the table. He was not buying her act, and Lisa knew it, but her guise didn’t crack even for a second.

“You neglected to mention that Barry was there.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, and Len grit his teeth because _yes_ , it did matter! Len was acting on the assumption that he had nearly a week until Barry would see any of the Rogues again, nearly a week until he had to come clean about the whole fake-dating thing; he thought he had _time_. But he supposed that was just an illusion, a trick he’d played on himself. When Len didn’t verbally answer Lisa’s question, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, calm down, Lenny; clearly, I didn’t scare the kid off if he still wants to see you.” And, clearly, Barry hadn’t done anything to tip the Rogues off about how he and Len weren’t actually dating.

Not yet, anyway…

But that didn’t do anything to help the knot in Len’s stomach loosen.

Len knew that he shouldn’t have let Barry go yesterday morning without telling him the truth. There was so little that he had control over in this situation, but one of the things he _could_ control was whether or not Barry was told the truth before it was too late and he blew their cover. Len had control over that information, and now he needed to bite the bullet and get this over with.

“I think I can make time to stop by,” Len said after he’d lifted the phone back up to his ear, eying his sister carefully, watching for any of her tells. She didn’t so much as twitch, but Lisa was a good liar, so he still couldn’t say for sure what she was up to, nor whether or not Len had just played right into her hand.

“Oh, okay,” Barry said, sounding surprised by Len’s answer. “That’s great. When can you be here?”

“How’s an hour sound?” Technically, he could get to STAR Labs quicker than that, but Len suddenly felt nervous at the thought of seeing Barry again, and he decided that a little extra time to prepare and make himself look good was probably for the best.

“I’ll come to pick you up,” Barry offered, and Len shook his head despite knowing that Barry couldn’t see him.

“I can make my own way there,” he said. Barry tried to protest, but Len just cut him off before he could really even begin. “I’m fine, Barry. I promise.” It was true, a short journey on his bike was nothing, and Len was positive that he could manage it.

“Well, then… I guess I’ll see you in an hour,” Barry said, and Len hung up.

“I should get going so that you can get ready for your date,” Lisa said, licking the grease from the pizza off her fingers and discarding the crust from the last slice into the box, but Len shook his head and used his cane as a barricade to stop his sister from getting up out of her chair.

“What are you up to?” he demanded, to which Lisa responded with another one of her all-too-innocent looks, but Len still wasn’t buying it. “Taking Barry out for coffee?” he prompted, and his sister rolled her eyes.

“You worried that I’m trying to steal your boyfriend?” she laughed, but Len wasn’t in a laughing mood. “I didn’t take Barry out to Jitters,” Lisa finally said, sighing and looking non-too impressed. “I took Hart, Shawna, and Mark out. Barry just happened to be there at the same time.”

“Just so happened, huh?” Len asked sarcastically. He didn’t believe in coincidences. However, he also couldn’t think of anything Lisa would have to gain from orchestrating that little meet-up, and that was worrying in and of itself.

“Are you gonna let me up?” Lisa eventually asked, and they proceeded to get into a staring contest which lasted just shy of thirty seconds, one which Lisa ended up winning as Len dropped the end of his cane back down to the floor to let his sister stand. Lisa rolled her eyes again – which was one too many times to be casual; she _was_ planning something… she had to be – and moved to leave Len’s kitchen and house, with a casual “See you later” thrown over her shoulder at him.

Len stared at the seat that Lisa had recently vacated for a few more seconds before turning to go take a shower and change into fresh clothes before he went to STAR Labs, not that he was particularly fussed over how he looked. Except…

Except that was a complete lie, and Len absolutely did care about how he looked in front of Barry right now. He wanted to look good. He wanted Barry to know exactly what he was missing out on.

The cane and the limp probably brought the look down a bit, made him look weak and frail, though Len did his best not to focus on that too much right now. It was temporary. It was just a matter of time until Len would be able to walk normally and unaided again, yet he found himself very self-conscious over it regardless.

Len took his time getting ready, if only because he didn’t want to forget anything in his room and have to make the journey back up and down the stairs more times than he had to: it was a difficult, painful, and slow task to accomplish, and Len lamented having to make the trip too frequently.

When he was ready, he rode his bike on over to STAR Labs, arriving in the main car park with a few minutes to spare. To his surprise, Barry was waiting for him out front, smiling nervously as Len kicked the stand into place and removed his helmet.

They made eye contact for a moment before Len bent down in his seat to grab the cane from where it was clipped into place on his bike. He felt Barry’s eyes on him as he used the cane to help himself stand from his motorbike, and Len did his best not to be affected by that – or, at the very least, not to let his unease show on his face – but it was difficult. Len wasn’t used to feeling like this, to feeling…

God help him; Len felt _embarrassed_.

It had been so long since he had last been embarrassed by anything that Len almost had forgotten what it felt like. But Barry had a way about him that just brought this kind of thing out of Len. Barry made him feel _young_ again, which Len had found was both a blessing and a curse…

Len did his best to ignore the emotions swirling around in his chest as he limped towards Barry who, blessedly, did not mention the cane, though he did appear concerned by it.

“Take that look off your face, Scarlet,” Len drawled. “I’m fine.”

“I’m sure,” Barry said, though it didn’t sound as though he believed his own words. He pushed the door open and held it for Len to walk through before following behind and through the entryway.

Barry seemed awfully tense today, and Len wanted to ask him about it, but he was admittedly a little afraid of the answer. He wondered if it had anything to do with the little Jitters run-in with the Rogues this morning. He didn’t want to bring it up, but as the silence stretched on, it began to become uncomfortable. There was something that Barry wasn’t telling him, and there was definitely something Len was keeping from Barry too, and both secrets sat there in the space between them, sucking the air out of the room.

Right up until the elevator doors opened in front of them and out flooded the sound of smooth Jazz, which was particularly strange because STAR Labs had never had music playing in their elevators before.

“Cisco’s making some upgrades to our systems,” Barry said, answering the question in Len’s gaze.

“And he decided to start with elevator music rather than security?” Len joked, and Barry laughed as the tension between them broke. They continued into the elevator together, Len walking slowly to minimise his limp, and then pressed the button to take them up to the floor they needed. “I always did think Team Flash’s priorities were skewered.”

“Why? Because we help people rather than robbing them?” Once upon a time, Barry might have said those words in anger, but not anymore; there was no heat in Barry’s voice now, so Len smiled.

“Precisely.”

“Anyway, I’ll have you know that we have some of the best security software and systems that money can buy.”

“Oh yeah?” Len said, turning his smirk on Barry. “Then why aren’t you using them?” The elevator dinged to announce their floor, and Len stepped out through the doors. He was beginning to feel a little exhausted, his thigh burning in pain. Len’s attempts at walking a little more normally in front of Barry meant that each step was taking more and more out of him than it should, and STAR Labs was a big building, too many steps for Len’s own good.

"I never knew you were so interested in security," Barry said. "There's a big market in that."

"Sounds boring."

"Well, there are other ways to make your life exciting besides your day job," Barry prompted, and Len was far too familiar with this conversation. It used to be fun. Well, actually, at first it was annoying, then it was fun, now it was… something else. It didn’t annoy him, but Len wasn’t so sure that it sat right with him anymore either.

"Like being a hero?" he asked, and Barry shrugged, seeming to have noticed the tension that had built up in Len’s shoulders, or maybe it was more the grit in his voice which gave the kid pause.

"That's one way," Barry said, but he sounded less eager than before. Still, it wasn’t enough for Len. He realised that he needed to know where Barry stood on this issue, and he needed to figure out where he himself stood too.

"I thought you'd given up on this incessant need to change me?" Len drawled, walls up in a way that he hadn’t been with Barry in a long time – longer than he’d even realised until right now.

"I don't want to change you, Len."

"Could have fooled me."

Barry stopped him short then with a hand on Len’s bicep, holding on just tight enough to prevent him from going anywhere. When Len turned back to face him – his friend, the man he loved – Barry’s expression was turmoiled.

"No, I just...” Barry shook his head. “I want you to know that you have options. What you do with them is your choice." He sounded sincere, much more so than Len had expected from him when it came to the issue of how Len made his living. Yet, his green eyes shone honest as always, kind and gentle, but with that spark of energy and rebellion which had caught Len’s attention when they’d first met as the Flash and Captain Cold a few years ago. Barry wasn’t a cut-and-dry kind of kid, and that was what Leonard liked about him. "I can't pretend that this wouldn't be easier if you weren't a criminal,” Barry shrugged; “it would. But I'm with you no matter what."

"With me?" Len questioned Barry’s choice of words, feeling them like a physical pressure fluttering against his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"I just mean... you're my friend, and I'm here for you."

Friend...

And if Len wanted to be more than friends? Would Barry still be _‘with’_ him then?

Len knew this was his cue: to ask about the coffee, to tell Barry what Lisa thought. What they _all_ thought. To ask how Barry felt and tell him what he felt in return…

But Len preferred the other option: to wait until after Dr Snow had examined his frostbite, and they were on their way back out of the labs before they had this discussion. He'd thought it would be easier like that; that Len would be able to make a quick escape if things didn’t go his way (or have a very pleasant ride back to his place if they _did_ ).

Len shook his head; the conversation needed to happen tonight; that was why he was here for this little impromptu STAR Labs check-up, after all. But Len figured that it could wait just one more hour.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" he said, making it clear it wasn’t really a request by shaking off Barry’s hold on his arm and turning back towards the cortex at the end of the corridor. Only a few steps more, and Len would be able to put all of this to the back of his head. Unless Barry wanted to continue on with this conversation while in front of an audience, that is.

Len quickened his steps for the last few paces, biting back the pain as he hobbled towards the cortex with Barry in tow right behind him. Finally, they turned the corner into the room where Barry’s team was waiting for them. Cisco took one look at Len's cane, and his eyebrows practically disappeared with how high up his forehead and into his hairline they went.

"Who invited House?" he joked, and Len gave him a tight, dry smile.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Yeah, Hugh Laurie's hot," Barry said without missing a beat… and then looked as though he immediately regretted it. Len tried to not let it affect his heart rate, but it turned out to be a fruitless attempt as his heart skipped happily at Barry's attention, unintended as it may have been.

"He might be hot," Len drawled, "but I'm _cool_."

"You're also a nerd," Cisco muttered, and Len quirked an eyebrow his way. Since when had Barry's team become comfortable enough around him to say something like that?

"Careful, Cisco," Len warned. "I may not be as mobile as I was the last time we met, but I can still be plenty frosty."

"Definitely a nerd," Barry laughed, and Len should have _known_ this was his doing. Barry Allen was a bad influence all ‘round.

The check-up itself was painless. Dr Snow examined the area – which Len had remembered to bandage up before he came over, not wanting to give Barry any reason to worry about him any further; he’d also remembered to put on underwear, though he’d been doing that more and more often ever since getting injured so high on his thigh – and asked a few questions, all the while Barry hovered by Len’s side.

It was over and done within 20 minutes. Though, Len knew that the examination itself wasn’t going to be the difficult part of the visit. The only reason he’d agreed to show in the first place had been so that he could talk with Barry before he ended up blowing their cover. And maybe, possibly, ask him out on a date too.

As time ticked on, and the moment Len was waiting for got closer and closer, he began to get nervous, though he hid it well.

Caitlin finished the check-up by telling Len that he was healing as expected and that he wouldn’t need to keep it bandaged up anymore – which was good because he wasn’t doing that anyway – and then Barry led him out of the cortex and back out the way that they had come.

As they walked away, Len knew that this was his time. His moment. He couldn’t put it off any longer. Barry needed to know the truth, and he needed to know it now before he found out through the wrong person in the wrong way.

They stepped into the elevator, and Len prepared to make his speech, his confession. For the past two days, he’d agonised over how he was going to say this once the time came, and now it was here. But how to start the conversation?

“Lisa tells me she ran into you at Jitters this morning,” he decided on as the elevator doors behind them closed shut, and the lift began to move. Barry instantly began to look uneasy, his gaze falling away from Len’s face and settling on the floor instead. That only served to make Len more nervous. “How did that go?”

“Fine,” Barry said unconvincingly. Len waited. “There was this one thing, though…”

Before Barry could continue, the elevator stuttered and stopped, the lights flickering off to be replaced with the dim glow of the backup generator. Surprisingly, though, the music playing from the overhead speakers didn’t glitch for even a second. Barry finally looked up at Len, though it was too dark for Len to make out the expression on his face. Barry moved past him to press a button on the control panel; nothing happened. He pressed it again and again.

Len took his phone out of his pocket, but it was useless; all of the metal they were surrounded by was blocking any signal he had. He told Barry this, who checked his own phone before reluctantly shaking his head.

“The comms button isn’t working either. And, according to the panel, we overshot the first floor as though we were heading down to the basement.”

So… they were stuck in a tiny five-foot by five lift, with barely enough light to see each other with, no communication to anyone outside, and in-between floors so that Barry couldn’t simply phase them out of there… Great.

“Well, at least we have music,” Len drawled; Barry didn’t seem to appreciate it.

[] [] []

“Did anyone bring popcorn?” Lisa – who had remained hidden in a nearby room for the past half an hour until Caitlin retrieved her after Barry and Snart had left the cortex – asked, leaning back on the chair to rest her feet up on the table. Cisco thought it was kind of cute, actually. Or perhaps hot was a better descriptor? Whatever it was, he liked it. However, he had to bat Lisa’s feet off of the desk anyway, just in case she accidentally pressed a button she shouldn’t have done and got their friends stranded in an elevator for _real_. As it was, everything that was happening right now was just a programme that he’d created on Lisa’s request, which overrode the system and stranded Barry and Leonard exactly where Cisco told it to.

Lisa rolled her eyes as she dropped her heeled feet back to the floor, but she didn’t offer up so much as a complaint as she reached over to turn the volume up on the footage, but Caitlin just shook her head and muted it again.

“What are you doing?” Lisa demanded, not looking happy with Cait’s interference, but Cisco agreed with Cait. What they were doing now was bad enough without eavesdropping as well.

“We shouldn’t be listening in to this,” Caitlin defended herself.

“I thought we’d agreed-”

“That we needed to keep an eye on the situation so that we can restart the elevator if there’s an emergency,” Cait finished, nodding. “But we said nothing about listening in on their private conversations.”

“Lighten up, Doc,” Lisa brushed off. “Lenny’s my big brother. It’s practically my job to spy on him.”

“Well, Barry’s one of my best friends, and it is _literally_ my job to protect him.”

“I have to agree with Caitlin here,” Cisco finally added in, and Lisa looked _betrayed_. But, after a moment, she sighed and nodded.

“Fine,” she drawled, crossing her arms. “But you’re taking all of the fun out of this.”

“One more thing,” Caitlin said, not satisfied with the win just yet. “The bug on Barry’s phone? You’re going to need to deactivate it.”

“And why would I do that?” Lisa asked, and Cisco worried that the two of them were going to end up getting into a physical fight. Cisco wondered if he’d have any chance breaking it up if it came to that, and he knew instantly that the answer to that was a resounding no.

“Because I’m not comfortable with you spying on one of my best friends.”

“Why?” Lisa asked, actually sounding confused. It was a testament to how wildly different lives they led. “I already know Barry’s little secret. What else can I find out?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s wrong.”

“Hello, criminal here,” Lisa waved. “I don’t exactly choose my actions based on right and wrong.”

“How about a deal?” Cisco asked, jumping in before the argument could escalate any further. He picked his phone up off of the desk and held it, locked, for Lisa to see. “You stop listening in on Barry, and I’ll send you a video I took of your brother last week, _completely_ shit-faced.” Lisa looked momentarily tempted by that, but then she shook her head.

“Lenny doesn’t get drunk. Not anywhere you two would see, anyway.”

“Actually, he was high,” Caitlin said, and Lisa laughed.

“Well, he definitely doesn’t do _that_.” She was so very insistent on it that it made Cisco feel guilty, even though he himself wasn’t actually to blame for Leonard’s little drugged-up episode last week. Cait and Cisco shared a look, wanting to tell Lisa the truth. However, they both seemed to realise that the information would sound a lot better coming from Cisco rather than Caitlin.

“He does when we accidentally give him too many pain killers,” he slowly admitted, and Lisa just blinked at the two of them for a minute. Cisco felt his nerves bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he waited, but then Lisa just started to smile, slow and devilish.

“Okay, deal,” she said, making grabby hands for Cisco’s phone, which he unlocked and brought up the video for Lisa to see, offering it up freely before turning back to the CCTV footage on-screen, where Barry was clearly becoming a little agitated in his attempts to escape the elevator. He looked worried, and Cisco was instantly flooded with guilt for it, but he knew that he couldn’t call this off yet, not if they wanted these two to actually _talk_ to each other. If Lisa was right, then there was one hell of a big secret that Leonard was keeping from Barry, and that needed to change.

An alert popped up on Cisco’s computer then, telling him that Barry was attempting to use the control panel in the elevator to override the code Cisco had put in place, the code which was keeping the lift halted in the exact position it was currently in, the perfect position that would keep Barry from being able to phase out. Cisco had expected this, and he had a second code prepared for this eventuality, which he uploaded into the system now, cutting power to the control panel entirely.

On-screen, he watched Barry throw his hands up in the air in frustration, and Cisco sighed; he sure hoped that his friend would forgive him for this…

Contrastingly, Lisa appeared to be having a _fantastic_ time laughing at that video so hard that she actually fell off her chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pushed Lisa teaming up with Team Flash a little faster than I had planned and made this change a little last-minute, so I hope it doesn’t read too rushed :( also the elevator plan was absolutely not where I was going to go with this at all, but once it popped into my head I couldn’t resist it… So, yeah, overall this wasn’t my favourite chapter, but the next part is gonna be a lot of fun XD
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought of this! The good and the bad. I’m still trying to improve so constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> EDIT: This chapter is so damn long that I very nearly hit the 100k mark! *screams*
> 
> EDIT2: It just hit me that this fic has taken over one-hundred-thousand words for Barry to even realise he's in a fake relationship, and now I cannot stop laughing XD I am so sorry


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is _hella_ long ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope y'all have got snacks and drinks ready because you might be here a while.

“Cisco?” Barry tried, shouting and banging against the metal door. “Caitlin?” He waited for any kind of answer. Nothing. “Anyone?”

“You’re ruining the song,” Len drawled, leaning casually back against the elevator wall behind him.

“Could you not?” Barry was quick to say; he didn’t need any more teasing about that.

Len just shrugged. It was still pretty dark in here – even darker after the control panel had glitched out and gone black – but Barry’s eyes were quick to adjust to the faint back-up lights. So, he could still clearly read the snarky look on Len’s face. But, underneath that, Barry thought that Len looked nervous.

That threw Barry for a second, not used to seeing Len as anything other than the perfect essence of cool. He understood his friend’s worry, though. They’d only been stuck here for a couple of minutes, but they had quickly run out of options. Sighing, Barry turned back to the door, wondering how he was going to get them out of this one…

“So, the control panel’s a bust,” Barry said, thinking aloud. “And I can’t phase us out because I have nowhere to go: we’re sitting just below the ground level, so sideways isn’t an option. And there’s like a 40-foot drop below until we hit the basement, so can’t go down either.”

“Shame, I always did enjoy a man going down,” Len drawled, and Barry shot him a glare which he hoped Len could see.

“Would you take this seriously,” Barry said, getting a little frustrated with Len’s nonchalance. Yep. His frustration was definitely about Len’s chilled attitude; it had absolutely nothing to do with that little question that Shawna had asked him this morning. Nothing at all. “For all we know, the building could be under attack.”

“I doubt it,” Len shrugged, pushing himself off the wall so that he could stand up a little straighter, putting his weight onto his new cane instead. “I’m willing to bet Cisco just made one too many modifications to whatever system this elevator runs on.” Or perhaps this was what Caitlin had been up to all along? But Barry didn’t really like to consider that as a possibility. After all, what would his friends really think to gain from trapping Barry and Len in an elevator together?! “You said we’re below the first floor? How far below?”

“I couldn’t say,” Barry said, shaking his head of all his suspicions. “The map isn’t, _wasn’t_ , that accurate.”

“Okay,” Len shrugged, hooking his cane onto the handrail, and taking that one last step towards the door. “Let’s find out.” Len dug his fingers into the point where the doors met, and Barry jumped forward, putting his hand on Len’s arm to stop him.

“What are you doing? You could hurt yourself!”

“Calm down, Scarlet,” Len said, shrugging him off before easily prying the doors open. “See, no harm done. These doors are only held together by magnets; they’re pretty easy to get open.” Barry decided not to argue with Len about that. Even though he’d rather his friend didn’t exert himself here, he supposed it wasn’t up to Barry to decide what Len should and should not do. Especially so recently after Caitlin had confirmed that he was healing well. Instead, Barry just sighed and turned to face the gap Len had created in the doorway.

Barry edged closer, careful of the slight gap between the floor and the open elevator shaft. In front of them, there was nothing but cold metal, at least at eye-level anyway. When he looked up, Barry noticed a crack of light running straight down the centre of the wall, the metal there looking slightly different than the rest of it. It was a door. Apparently, they were closer to the first floor than Barry had thought. Still not close enough, though. Barry had to stretch up onto the tips of his toes just so that he could hook his fingers in between the outer door and force it open, mirroring what Len had done with the inner one.

As the door opened, light shone into the elevator, and Barry was able to inhale a breath of fresh air, only just now really registering how stuffy the inside of the lift was without any air con. Barry turned to glance over his shoulder, smiling at Len as he finally saw him again properly. Len didn’t look so worried anymore; maybe that had just been a trick of the light – or lack thereof – all along.

Barry relaxed back onto the balls of his feet and looked up at the space where the two elevator doors overlapped. They had about two feet of space…

Barry could fit through there.

“Do you think you’re able to give me a boost?” he asked, but Len started looking at him as though he were crazy.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Scarlet,” Len drawled. “I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that _that’s_ a bad idea.” Barry sighed, turning again to stare back up at the gap they’d created. He supposed that he could understand Len’s point – even Barry himself wasn’t too excited at the idea of crawling out of a stalled elevator – but he wasn’t used to just sitting back and doing nothing. Plus, there was still the unanswered question of why the elevator had stopped in the first place. Was it really just a mechanical fault? Or was there something else going on here that Barry didn’t yet know about? As though reading the questions directly out of Barry’s head, Len sighed, dropping his hand on Barry’s shoulder to get his attention. “Look, the lights are on out there,” he pointed out, “no one shouting for help, the building is not under attack, and the elevator seems pretty stable to me. The best thing we can do is just stay put.”

Len did make some good points… which was strange, actually, that the supervillain was the one acting as the voice of reason.

“Fine,” Barry agreed, giving up on his plan to climb to safety in favour of checking the signal on his phone again, but he still didn’t have any bars. Len was the same. Barry held his phone up to the gap in the outer door, but that didn’t do any good either. He was reminded that it wasn’t just the elevator shaft that was surrounded by reinforced metal but the whole building. The particle accelerator which encircled STAR Labs did a great job of keeping signal out of the building, even now where it remained half in ruins since the explosion. To make working here more manageable, they had signal boosters that covered most of the labs and the cortex, but the elevator must have been out of range. Barry couldn’t even seem to connect to the Wi-Fi from here!

Which was far, far too many runs of bad luck for one measly moment. And, really, the more Barry thought about it, the more suspicious he felt that perhaps this little ‘ _accident_ ’ wasn’t so accidental.

It was just too perfectly inconvenient: the exact position of the elevator that was preventing Barry from phasing out, the complete lack of signal and internet so they couldn’t call for help, the way the control panel fritzed out just as Barry attempted to override the system and get the lift moving again, the _mood_ lighting, even the goddamn jazz playing over the speakers… Oh, Barry was so going to kill Cisco and Caitlin once he got out of here!

Metaphorically speaking, that is. Though, if Len found out that this whole thing was intentional, he might not go so easy on Barry’s friends. And as annoying as this prank may be, his team probably didn’t actually deserve the death penalty for it.

Probably.

So, Barry decided right then _not_ to let Len in on this little theory of his just yet. Though, he supposed he might change his mind on that later, dependant on how long they were trapped.

“Okay, then, I guess we’re stuck in here for a while,” Barry admitted.

Len shrugged, the leather jacket resting on his shoulders making that squeaking creaking noise that leather often did when you moved, just about audible underneath the soft jazz music that still played through the speakers. “Looks like.”

“Aren’t you hot in that?” Barry asked, nodding his head at Len’s jacket. Even with the doors open, the movement of air inside the elevator was minimal. And although it was now nearly eight o’clock in the evening, it had been a hot day, and the heat was lingering in the building.

“I’m hot in everything,” Len drawled, and Barry rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.” It occurred to Barry then that perhaps Len might find it challenging to take his jacket off while standing up, considering how snug of a fit it was around his biceps… To take it off would mean to release his hold on the handrail and put more of his weight on his injured leg. “Do you want some help?” Barry asked. The corner of Len’s lips twitched up in amusement, his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t turn him down as Barry stepped closer and placed his hand on top of Len’s shoulder. He tugged the jacket down, feeling only a little weird about the action and thankful for the music playing in the background to fill the silence. Though the silence didn’t last for long anyway before Len was smirking and speaking up again.

“If you wanted to undress me, Barry,” he drawled, “all you had to do was ask.”

Barry’s hands froze on Len’s arms for a moment, his friend’s words an echo of a conversation they’d had last week when Len had first been injured. Once he’d woken up, Len had told Barry that the whole day had been a blur, so he probably didn’t remember that conversation. But Barry did. Barry remembered everything that Len had said and done that day. Every compliment. Every smile.

He also remembered, _vividly_ , what Len had looked like sans clothes, but Barry was trying his best not to think about that.

Barry felt eyes on him, a question undoubtedly in Len’s gaze. Still, he refused to meet it as he continued to run his hands down Len’s arms, sliding the leather jacket entirely from his shoulders. But Len’s taunt had done more than just remind Barry of the last time he’d undressed his friend. It had also brought Shawna’s question back to the forefront of his mind, and Barry knew he had to talk to Len about this now. He had to get everything out into the open, so they could figure out what to do next.

“Everything alright there, Scarlet?” Len asked, and Barry responded with a short nervous laugh. That nickname – ‘ _Scarlet_ ’ – Len had been calling him it for years, though never as much as he had been doing over these past few days. Barry wasn’t too sure that he liked it. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked the moniker itself, but Barry preferred it when Len actually called him by his real name. Calling him Scarlet just felt less personal for some reason, as though he was talking to Barry as the Flash, the Scarlet Speedster, and not to him as himself.

Though maybe right now, with what Barry had to say, a little personal distancing was a good thing?

Barry moved to hook Len’s heavy leather jacket onto the edge of the handrail beside them so he could run his fingers through his hair instead. Then he finally turned to meet Len’s blue eyes again. Though, with the minimal light flowing into the elevator from the opening at the top, and with the back-up generator lights kicking out a pretty lacklustre glow, Len’s eyes appeared a lot darker than usual right now. A deeper midnight blue compared to the more vibrant colours that Barry was used to seeing.

He couldn’t keep Len’s gaze for very long, instantly dropping his eyes back to the floor as his mind spun, wondering how on earth he was going to bring this up. Len just remained silent, seeming to wait him out.

“It’s about the Rogues,” Barry confessed. “They…”

“They think we’re dating,” Len finished for him, and Barry felt the tension suddenly deflate out of his shoulders.

“Oh, thank God, you already know!” Barry exclaimed, throwing his head momentarily back and laughing up at the ceiling of the lift. He was so relieved that he didn’t need to fill Len in on this that Barry was talking again before he’d even finished tilting his head forward once more to look Len in the eyes. "Shawna actually asked me about our sex life at Jitters this morning," he said, shaking his head. He expected Len to baulk at that or to laugh along too. But he just started frowning, and Barry nervously continued on with: "I just about did a spit take all over the table. It's ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous?" Len asked; there was something off about his voice, and his face had fallen blank, which wasn’t exactly the reaction that Barry had been expecting. He’d thought that Len would laugh it off and start making more taunts at Barry than he already did, maybe even join in on the joke with the rest of the Rogues, just to get Barry flustered. That, or he’d completely pale at the idea and pull away from Barry now. Obviously, out of the two, the latter was the course that Barry liked least. It was never fun to think that someone would be so repulsed at the idea of dating you that they’d push you away at the mere thought of it, regardless of whether or not Barry did have romantic feelings for Len – which, clearly, he did _not_.

But Len wasn’t really acting like that either. He just looked cautious, unsure. Barry didn’t know what to make of it.

"Yeah, I mean…” Barry shook his head, not knowing how to continue now. “Well, okay, the Rogues at least don't know that I'm the Flash, so I guess they wouldn't quite know just how difficult this would be,” Barry tried to explain. “But my friends kind of have their own theories about it too.” Getting that secret off of his chest didn’t feel as good as he’d hoped it would. “I keep telling them that they’re wrong, but they never seem to believe me.”

“The Rogues?” Len asked, sounding... startled, maybe?

“No,” Barry shook his head. “No, I didn’t really get the chance to talk to them.” Not that he would have known _how_ to talk to Len’s Rogues if Barry’s own friends didn’t even believe him.

“Good,” Len said; his voice was soft, so soft that it took Barry a moment to figure out what he’d said. Then, Barry began to frown. Noticing his confusion, Len shrugged and leant casually back against the elevator wall behind him, seemingly having worked through whatever it was that had been on his mind. “My Rogues need to think we’re dating.”

“What? Why?” Barry asked, more confused than ever.

“No need to sound so appalled,” Len said. For a moment, Barry couldn’t quite tell whether or not the offence he heard echoed in Len’s voice was genuine or not. But then he shook his head; it couldn’t be real. Len dropped Barry’s gaze then, glancing down as he unhooked his cane from the handrail and studied the patterns engraved in the wood. When he spoke up again, he sounded more sincere than usual. “It’s the only way to keep your secret from being blown.”

“I don’t understand,” Barry admitted. He wished that Len would meet his eyes again, sure that everything would be clearer once he did. But Len just kept staring down at the cane in his hands, running his thumb along one of the markings. Barry had so many questions, and now he wasn’t so sure that Len wasn’t just intentionally keeping him in the dark…

[] [] []

Len felt almost as though he were lost. As though he’d been dropped in the middle of an ocean without a life raft. As though _Barry_ had been the one to put him there.

It was stupid, he knew, to become so downtrodden so quickly. Barry hadn’t turned him down, didn’t even know that Len had been getting ready to ask him out in the first place. And yet, the easy dismissal seemed to speak for itself. It wasn’t concrete, it wasn’t a rejection, but it was enough that Len’s love confession got stuck in the back of his throat.

Felling unsure, Len couldn’t find it inside himself to meet Barry’s eyes while he thought of how to answer the question. Len couldn’t look at Barry now. Though it wasn’t the elevator that he saw either, nor was it the cane he held in his hands. In Len’s mind eye, he saw that first night again, that first meeting that Barry had barged his way into, saw it as clear as though it were only yesterday, even though months had passed since then.

In a way, it felt as though it _was_ only yesterday. But, at the same time, Len felt like Barry had been a part of his Rogues since the very beginning.

Len cleared his throat before speaking. “You’re too comfortable around me, Barry,” he explained as best as he could. “The Rogues knew there was something special about you–” _‘that you were special to me_,’ Len thought, but did not have it in him to say aloud “–the second that you walked into that bar.”

“Is this about the ‘Lenny’ thing?” Barry asked, and Len wasn’t actually sure whether the kid was being serious or just trying to lighten Len’s mood. “Because I don’t call you that anymore!”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” Len admitted but then quickly moved on before he could let Barry think too hard into why that was. “But it’s not that. Not _only_ that. It’s everything, Scarlet. I’m more lenient with you than I am with anyone else; I’m more forgiving.” Len was admitting too much, he was sure, but he couldn’t help himself. Finally, he turned back to face Barry, the movement pulling at his injured leg, but Len did his best to ignore that. Barry’s eyes were big and so full of questions that Len didn’t even know where to begin to answer. “I figured it was better to let them assume we’re dating than to risk them asking the wrong questions.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Barry’s voice was quiet, and Len couldn’t quite put his finger on what that emotion was behind it. Len shook his head, though the movement threw him ever so slightly off-balance so that he had to put more weight on his injured leg. It was really beginning to throb with pain now from being on his feet for so long. Len took in a deep breath and let it out again loudly through his teeth; he dropped the cane back down to the floor so that he could better distribute his weight while they spoke.

“I thought you knew,” Len said, putting his mind back on topic again and hoping that Barry hadn’t noticed his minute glitch.

There was a moment of complete silence between them, where Barry looked oh so very confused. But then, finally, he said: “Okay.” Len wasn’t sure what Barry was thinking or feeling, so he just waited. “Okay, yeah, well… that at least explains the Rogues.”

“Are you good with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Barry asked, though he still didn’t quite sound right. “You were only trying to help me out. I can’t be mad at that.”

So, did that mean that Barry _wanted_ to be mad? Or was he just stating a fact?

Len didn’t know what to make of this. He’d prepared himself for what to do if Barry shot him down, and he’d imagined what he’d do if Barry loved him back, but… this was different. Despite claiming how ‘ _ridiculous_ ’ it would be for them to date, Barry didn’t actually seem repulsed by the idea of them in a fake relationship. But, then again, neither did he look particularly thrilled by it either. Len couldn’t tell one way or the other how Barry was feeling, and that wasn’t something which he’d planned for.

This was not at all as Len had imagined their conversation going, and now he just felt stuck. Len almost wished that he’d just let Barry climb out of the damn elevator ten minutes ago so that he could leave now instead of being trapped in this awkward moment. He wondered if Barry could see the disappointment on his face, the hurt in his heart. Len just kept reminding himself that Barry hadn’t turned him down. He hadn’t said that they couldn’t be together. He’d said it was difficult, not impossible. He’d said it was ridiculous, but he was right! Leonard Snart dating the Flash was a laughable idea, really, and very flawed.

But love wasn’t about logic; it was from the heart, not the head. And, sometimes, love was ridiculous. That didn’t mean that it was bad or wrong, just a little odd.

Len wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity, wasn’t going to admit defeat quite so quickly. He would fight for Barry; he _wanted_ to fight for Barry. He just didn’t know _how_ yet. Len wished that he could escape this conversation now, knew that he would have ducked out right then and there if he could. But he was still stuck in an elevator with – quite literally – nowhere to go. It was both a blessing and a curse.

By now, the music had become little more than background noise, but it was the only thing keeping this moment from getting impossibly awkward, so Len tilted his head up to listen to the song playing while he thought.

“I can’t believe fake relationships are actually a thing,” Barry laughed as their silence stretch on, and Len looked back down at him, putting on a smile. He wasn’t quite feeling it yet, but the longer he just stayed still, the longer he just breathed, the easier it became.

“Is it really any stranger than running at the speed of sound?”

Barry actually looked a little smug as he quickly corrected Len with: “Actually, I’m closer to the speed of light than to the speed of sound.”

“And yet you _still_ weren’t quick enough to figure out that we’re in a fake relationship?” Len teased, feeling marginally better with every passing second, even as the pain in his leg began to throb more and more. Barry rolled his eyes at Len’s remark, and Len regained his confidence enough that he could add on: “Oh, and, Barry?” He paused to get Barry’s full attention before he allowed a slow smirk to spread across his face. “Next time Shawna asks about our sex life, feel free to tell her how much I blow your mind.”

Barry laughed. “You are so full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Just making sure that this stays realistic,” Len said, sounding a lot more relaxed than he actually was. But Len always was good at putting on a calm face. “We wouldn’t want to tip her off now, would we?”

“And what will you tell her when she asks about me?”

“She won’t.”

“She might!” Barry almost sounded offended, and Len couldn’t help the way his smirk broadened into a grin.

“I’ll be sure to shower you with praise.”

“That’s more like it,” Barry nodded, clearly a little surprised by Len’s quick agreement and unsure about where to go from there. It was kind of cute, actually. Though Barry Allen was pretty much the definition of ‘cute’, which was strange because he was also the definition of ‘dangerous’, and ‘brave’, and ‘stubborn’, and so much more. It was why Len loved him.

The silence stretched on, though it wasn’t awkward anymore, at least not for Len, anyway, as he got to stand and watch a blush spreading across Barry’s already-rosy cheeks. Though he perhaps would have gotten more enjoyment out of that if the soreness in his leg would stop pounding for a minute. As it was, Len was finding it difficult to distract himself from the building pain. He needed to move, to stretch, to sit down and take the weight off of his leg. However, he didn’t see that happening any time soon. They’d already been stuck in this elevator for twenty minutes, and they couldn’t even say yet if Barry’s team knew they were down here.

Len would have liked to leave now. Unfortunately, hacking elevators wasn’t exactly his area of expertise: the one and only time the Rogues had needed access to a private elevator, they’d just brought Hartley along.

“You think your friends are going to come through for us anytime soon?” Len asked, and Barry immediately clenched up. Len studied the reaction a little and figured it probably had something to do with the comment Barry had made about Team Flash thinking they were dating. That had taken Len for surprise when Barry had mentioned it. However, he hadn’t had the time to analyse it then. And now he didn’t have the mental capacity to either – his mind becoming increasingly bleary since he’d acknowledged his pain – so he shelved it away for future thought instead.

“I don’t know,” Barry shrugged, the movement a little jerky and tense. “It could be a while yet.”

Great.

Len tried to shift his weight a little more. However, he was already leaning back against the elevator wall behind him, and he didn’t know how much more pressure he could really expect to relieve from his thigh while standing.

Beginning to feel desperate for a new topic to focus his energy on, Len brought up the first thing that came to mind. Well, the first thing which _wasn’t_ about how beautiful the curve of Barry’s smile was. He also deliberately chose to ignore the question on his mind about the apparent tension between Barry and his team, which Len had apparently been too busy ogling Barry tonight to notice during his examination earlier.

“Do you like flowers?” Len asked, realising too late that the only reason he was thinking about flowers right now was because of one of his scrapped plans to ask Barry out on a date. At the question, Barry gave him the most confused and adorable look that Len had ever witnessed. It almost made this whole moment bearable.

“I guess,” Barry laughed. “Who doesn’t like flowers?”

“Lisa,” Len immediately answered. “She’ll tolerate them if she likes whoever gave them to her, but usually, they’ll just go straight in the trash, along with her date.”

“I should probably warn Cisco about that,” Barry laughed, though he still looked charmingly confused. “But I’m assuming that wasn’t why you brought it up?”

“No,” Len said, shaking his head but trying not to let it jostle his body in any way. The distraction was helping him to wade through the pain a little. Still, Len was concerned that any movement at all, anything that caused his thigh to tense even a little bit, would spark the fire building there under his skin. “But if we’re going to keep pretending to date, I should probably know this,” he said effortlessly. Technically, he wasn’t lying.

His answer had the unfortunate result of clearing the confusion from around Barry’s eyes. However, the reflective pout on Barry’s lips as he thought his reply over a little deeper, leaning back against the wall opposite Len now, was pretty cute too.

“I like sunflowers,” Barry eventually said. “My mum used to plant them in the garden every summer; they towered over everything, including me.” Barry laughed a little, and it made Len smile. “Though, to be fair, I wasn’t exactly a tall kid.”

“I had no idea.” That, of course, was another lie. Len had done his fair share of digging when it came to Barry Allen. He probably knew more about the kid at this point than he did his own sister.

“So, what’s your favourite flower?” Barry asked, and Len smiled.

“What makes you so sure that I have one?”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me,” Barry prodded, grinning now. “I won’t judge.”

“Maybe I’m just not a flower guy,” Len said. It wasn’t strictly true either. He didn’t really mind flowers, per se, but he’d never thought all that much of them as a gift either. Not that anyone had ever _given_ Len flowers. But, if they had, Len doubted he would have cared all that much about them. For a moment, though, Len wondered whether he would appreciate them more if Barry were the one to give them to him. At that, Len’s stomach flipped in the way it often did when thinking about the man he loved.

For a moment, Len felt a nervous type of happiness fluttering in his chest, not that he let that show on his face at all…

“Okay, fine,” Barry said, still smiling. “So, you get me sunflowers, and I give you… what?” he asked, and Len’s lips immediately twisted into a dramatic smirk.

“Blowjobs?” he offered casually, watching the immediate blush blow up across Barry’s face. He was doing that thing again where he was trying to give Len a bitch-face to show his displeasure at the remark; however, he couldn’t entirely smother down that amused smile. It was a distinctively Barry look, both adorable and innocent while somehow maintaining that spark of mischievous charm. Len loved that look on Barry, and to see it now was well worth the knot of nerves in the pit of his stomach from his own joke. Len may put on a brave face, but whenever he made a joke like that, he risked Barry taking it badly and reminding Len of how ‘ _ridiculous_ ’ the notion of them together was…

"Are you insinuating that all it takes to get me on my knees is a few lousy flowers?" Barry asked, and Len's stomach settled again now that Barry was playing along.

"How about I throw in some chocolates as well?"

"Well, it's a start, I guess,” Barry allowed. Len couldn’t help but note that the way they were talking was as though this was real. As though _they_ were real. It made Len's heart soar, but he knew that he should let the conversation drop.

However, Len never was very good at following what he ' _should_ ' do...

“So, you want to be wooed, do you?” Len asked, pretending to be surprised as though he hadn’t spent the better part of today and yesterday obsessively planning on how to ask Barry out. He shifted his weight just enough that he could lean a little more into Barry’s space, not letting his discomfort from his leg show on his face. He didn’t let Barry answer as he grinned, raking his eyes up and down the Flash’s body. “I could do that.” Barry’s cheeks were beginning to darken, and Len wondered what would happen if he told Barry how he felt, right here and now. But he didn’t dare to leave the safety of their current façade just yet. “For the sake of our fake relationship, of course.”

“Right,” Barry nodded. Len wanted to push a little further but, instead, he waited, waited for Barry to make the next move. “I don’t really see you as the ‘ _wooing_ ’ type.” Len smirked, taking that as a clear a prompt as he was going to get.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, his words thick with his heavy drawl. Len wanted to push off from the wall and stalk those last few steps closer to Barry, to cage him in between his arms and the wall. But he couldn’t do that without putting too much pressure on his already painful thigh. “Well then, I better put the record straight,” he said casually, grinning and running his thumb sensually over the smooth curved handle of his cane. “Or… I guess ‘ _straight_ ’ isn’t the right word here.”

Barry smiled at that, a small huff of a laugh escaping his barely parted lips as he flicked his eyes downwards to the few measly feet of space that separated them. If Len was standing a little closer, he might have reached forward and used his finger to tilt Barry’s head back up to keep their eye contact. But he wasn’t, and Len was doing his utmost to stay still.

“Now, how would I get Barry Allen into bed…” Len murmured to himself, deliberately loud enough that Barry could hear. He smirked as Barry’s eyes flickered up to him from the floor, even as Len’s heart started pounding hard and heavy against his chest. “I would start with a kiss on your wrist,” Len said. If he were standing closer, he might have grabbed Barry’s wrist now and delicately tapped against his pulse point. “Simple and soft.

“I would tell you how beautiful you are,” Len continued. “I’d whisper it into your skin. About how your eyes glisten like the most precious of emeralds, and how your smile makes me feel like I’ve found my home. I’d tell you, Barry, that there is nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do for you.” Barry’s mouth had fallen further open, and Len wanted to run his thumb over those lips now, to hold Barry, to kiss him. “I would hold your face in my hands and caress your skin, and I’d tell you that I had forgotten what love felt like until this very moment.”

Len felt his throat going dry from the fire in his heart and lungs, burning in both fear and lust. He wanted Barry. He wanted Barry to know that this was _real_. That this is how he really, truly felt. But Len was also so damn terrified at what might happen if Barry did realise that this was more than just one of his taunts.

“I’d tell you that I loved you,” Len said. His voice had become little more than a whisper. “And that I was terrified of what it meant for an old criminal like me to love a hero like you.”

Barry was staring back at Len, his eyes so large and round. He stood so still as though frozen to the floor. Len’s chest was beginning to hurt with the way his heart continued to hammer inside it, with the way his breathing had become shallow and it felt as though every breath he took was hot and tight.

“I’d brush the hair off of your face,” he said, and Barry unconsciously started running his own fingers through his thick brown locks. “I’d trail my fingers down your lovely neck, and then I’d press a kiss right here,” Len said, tapping on his own neck at the point just below his jawline. “And then another one here, and here.” Len slowly ran his finger down his throat until he got to his collar bone. “Each one hotter and wetter than the last.

“I’d press my palm against your chest, and I’d feel the way that your heart raced for me.” He hoped that it did; he hoped that Barry felt even half of what Len felt. He wanted this to be real more than he had ever wanted any jewel or painting.

He wanted _Barry_.

“And then I wouldn’t need to kiss you on the lips because you’d kiss me first.” It was perhaps a bit daring of a statement, but it pulled a short and breathless laugh from Barry, and that was all that Len needed. For a moment, Len thought about making his move. He very nearly pushed himself off of this wall he was leaning against and flung himself onto Barry Allen. But the smallest twitch from that aborted movement threw his leg back into a piercing fire, and Len barely managed to keep the wince off of his face.

He considered doing it anyway. Even with his injured leg, and even with Barry's words – his ‘ _it’s ridiculous_ ’ – still ringing in his ears, Len considered it. 

“That’s, err… good to know,” Barry said, clearing his throat before he was able to properly talk again. “In case Shawna asks.”

“Of course,” Len smiled. He let the moment drop, though he instantly regretted it, wishing that he had just gone for it. Injured leg be damned, Len should have pushed off of this elevator wall and closed the gap between them, pressed his body against Barry, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

But now, the moment was gone, and Len didn’t know how to bring it back. Nor whether he actually _should_.

“So,” Barry said, while Len was still inwardly berating himself for his inaction. “What’s with the cane?” It was a blatant excuse for a topic change, Barry clearly trying to move forward while Len still wished he could go back.

“A gift from Mick,” Len answered.

“So, it’s stolen?” Barry didn’t sound as annoyed by that as he probably should have done, considering he was a superhero. In fact, he was even smiling. It was barely-there, as though Barry were attempting to smother it down, but it was a smile.

“Undoubtedly,” Len drawled, though he hadn’t really thought too much about that. Mick had just shown up with it this morning, shoving it in Len’s hands as he made a wisecrack about Len becoming geriatric. “At a guess, I’d say it’s some sort of antique.” Though Len wouldn’t put it past Mick to rob a pawn shop if he felt like it. For all Len knew, the thing could be completely worthless. It didn’t matter though, it did its job, and that was all that Len cared about.

Talking about the cane now, though, only served as a constant reminder of _why_ Len needed it in the first place. The once-dull ache of his left thigh had quickly become a burning flame sitting under his skin, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Len wanted to sit down, he knew that he would have to soon, but the floor was just so far away that he knew he’d need help. And Len wasn’t all that used to asking for help.

“May I?” Barry asked, his hand held outwards, and Len shifted his weight again so that he could lean more on the handrail and pass the item in question over.

“Do you know anything about vintage canes?” Len asked, doubtful, and Barry shook his head,

“Nothing at all,” he admitted, even as he studied the grooves in the wood. The cane was simple in design, a dark reddish-brown wood with swirls engraved into the handle, the grooves decorated with a light coating of gold paint. Or perhaps the paint was not so much light as it was faded but kept in good condition. Len hadn’t spent too much time examining the cane, so he couldn’t say for sure. “I’m surprised you didn’t get one with snowflakes on it,” Barry joked, handing the cane back to Len now. He took it with a smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Len said, though he hoped there wouldn’t _be_ a next time. The limp should only be temporary. Len should be fine again long before he needed a new cane. Though, with the way that Len’s thigh continued to burn away now, his recovery seemed so very distantly in the future.

There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Barry shifted a little awkwardly on his feet from the weight of what he had to say. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” Len drawled, and Barry’s lips quirked up a touch more in amusement. But it quickly faded to be replaced with something much more serious.

“Why don’t you let anyone see this side of you?” he asked, paused, and then elaborated with: “the guy who you can actually talk to, who you don’t need to fear.”

“Fear’s a powerful tool, Barry,” Len reminded him. “I’m a criminal, and I work with criminals. If they don’t fear me, then what will I have?”

“Friends?” Barry offered, sounding hopeful. Len laughed, though he hadn’t meant to. It was just… the way Barry said it… It seemed so simple, so hopeful. But Barry didn’t realise how much more complex Len’s life and relationships were than his own. The Rogues were his team, not his friends.

“What good are friends when you’re dead?” Len asked, his voice perhaps coming out a touch bitter, though he hadn’t really meant it to. It was just a fact: Len couldn’t relax around the Rogues, not now, not ever. The moment that he did, the moment that he showed any weakness at all, they would pounce.

“You don’t trust your Rogues?”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Not even me?” Barry asked, and Len fell silent. _Of course_ , he trusted Barry. And Barry knew it too. “I don’t want to tell you how to run your team–”

“Then don’t.”

“– but maybe if you were a little more relaxed around them, a little more like yourself, then they wouldn’t have been so shocked when you were like that around me.”

And maybe if Barry was a little more observant, he’d be able to tell that Len was completely in love with him and that _that_ was why the Rogues thought they were together.

“I’ll consider it,” Len lied. He didn’t enjoy lying to Barry – even if he had made quite the habit of doing exactly that this weekend – but he didn’t know if he could tell the kid the truth either. He wanted to, but he felt exhausted: both mentally and physically. Len didn’t have the capacity to deal with whatever fallout may come from confessing his love to Barry right now, and he certainly didn’t have the energy to fully enjoy whatever _positive_ reaction he might receive. “Happy now?”

“Yeah.”

Len only nodded, unable to muster much more of a reaction. His leg was only getting worse, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to think of anything else.

It had been precisely thirty-eight minutes since the elevator got stuck. Len should know. He’d made a living out of his timing, counting the seconds on every job and every action. It had become second nature to him eventually; it’d had to be. It wasn’t a conscious action anymore, but Len always kept track of the time. He didn’t pay attention to it so much now, not with Barry anyway. When Len was going up against the Flash, he needed to be entirely focussed. The seconds didn’t matter when you were fighting a speedster who was so impossibly difficult to predict.

And when Len was with Barry Allen, the civilian… well, then – like now – Len would rather just be in the moment.

But with his leg spiking in pain, Len was all too aware of exactly how long he’d been on his feet for. He’d sit down if he could. But doing that wasn’t exactly easy. Even with a cane in his hands to support himself, Len knew that he’d never make it all the way down to the floor without advertising his weakness to Barry. Right now, Len didn’t want Barry to think of him as weak, and old, and frail. That wasn’t the part of himself that he wanted Barry to see.

Barry needed a partner who would be able to keep up with him and – as impossible as that task sounded, given that Barry was a speedster – Len was desperate to be that man for him.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” Barry asked, sounding concerned, and Len ground his teeth together in annoyance. He’d been hoping that he’d be able to last out until after the elevator started moving again, but it looked as though that were impossible now. His pain must have begun to seep out into his expression.

“I’m fine,” Len said, and he was one hundred percent sure that his tone of voice remained unwavering and nonchalant. However, Barry seemed to be just now realising how long they had been standing up for, and the look on his face quickly turned from concern to alarm.

“No, you’re not,” Barry said, his voice filled to the brim with so much emotion that it was actually difficult to pinpoint one and unpack it from the others. He was pushing forward now, into Len’s space – not that he’d ever been all too far away, considering they were still stuck inside the cramped little elevator. “Your leg must be in agony.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” Len shrugged off.

Barry placed his hand on Len’s bicep, frowning deep and morose. “You need to sit,” he said. Len didn’t answer. He couldn’t deny that he was eager to rest his leg again, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to make it down to the floor, either. Especially not now that he’d been putting it off for so long. He was too weak to put any additional weight onto his injured thigh without just collapsing from the pressure and pain. Barry seemed to understand this. “Let me help you,” he said, sounding so much like he had only a few nights ago when he’d ran Len home after the Rogues meeting.

That had been the same night when Len had discovered he was in love with Barry Allen. Selfless, beautiful Barry Allen…

Wordlessly, Len nodded. Barry let out a breath that he must have been holding, looking relieved. However, instead of moving in any closer, he dropped his hold on Len and stepped back instead. After a silent moment where he only looked around, Barry picked up Len’s leather jacket that was still hanging on the handrail's edge. He folded it and lay it down on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Len asked once he was done, and Barry shrugged.

“I’m just…” he waved his hand uselessly. “I’m making somewhere comfortable for you to sit.”

“That’s not going to be comfortable,” Len drawled and then smirked. “Your lap might be, though.” Barry laughed, wrapping his arm around Len’s waist, and eased him down to the floor.

“You wish.”

Yeah. Yeah, he did.

[] [] []

“It’s been a long time since I last just sat down and listened to music,” Len said, almost off-handed, though Barry wasn’t so sure that there was _anything_ Len did or said that wasn’t first thoroughly thought through. Like that not-really love confession from earlier… Though Barry didn’t really know what the purpose of that had been in the end. It had to have been more than just for the sake of teasing Barry, right? It had just felt too rea–

No.

It hadn’t been real. _Of course_ , it hadn’t been real. It was just Len having some fun, getting Barry riled up, that was all.

“This playlist isn’t too bad,” Len said, bringing Barry back to the present where things were infinitely less confusing.

“You like jazz music?” he asked, turning to look over his shoulder at Len. They were sitting side by side against the elevator wall, bodies pointed towards the door and the slowly diminishing light cascading in. Len’s leather jacket was thrown to one side, since apparently all of the zips and buttons had, in fact, made it very uncomfortable to sit on. So, they’d just stayed like this, sitting on the floor next to one another for the past half an hour. Though they’d been trapped in here for much longer than that now, and Barry was beginning to get tired. It was still so warm in this cramped little space, and Barry thought that if he closed his eyes now, he might just fall asleep.

“My grandad used to play it a lot,” Len said. “It reminds me of… happier times.” That phrasing pulled at Barry’s heartstrings, and he didn’t want to ask, but he knew that he hand to:

“Does that mean you’re _un_ happy now?”

“That’s a pretty loaded question, Barry,” Len said. His voice had a tinge of his patented Captain Cold drawl about it, but he sounded much more open and honest than usual. Perhaps he was getting tired too? “Right now, I have good music and good company. What’s there to be unhappy about?”

But there was clearly something more he wanted to say. Something that he was holding back but which he couldn’t _quite_ keep out of his eyes. Barry didn’t like that, didn’t like the idea of Len having to keep _anything_ bottled up inside and away from Barry. They were friends. They were –

_Fuck_ – they were in a fake relationship, apparently!

Len shouldn’t think he needed to hide anything away from him.

Barry wanted to change that, wanted Len to know without a doubt that he could talk to Barry. When he thought about that, he felt that perhaps all Len needed was a little push – a little give and take.

“Someone once told me that I would never be happy,” Barry admitted. “That I would always find a way to corrupt everything, to sabotage myself. Sometimes I think he was right.” Barry didn’t want to think too hard about this now, didn’t want to feel that familiar sting of betrayal and regret. But at his confession, Len turned to make eye contact, and Barry knew that he couldn’t just stop now. “Happiness can feel fleeting sometimes,” he admitted. “And after everything I’ve been through, everyone I’ve lost along the way, sometimes it feels wrong to be happy. Like I’m betraying them.”

“Your parents wouldn’t want you to think like that.”

“I know. But that doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.” Barry took in a deep breath, letting it out again in a long sigh as he shook his head. He turned away from Len now and instead stared up at the small gap of space leading out into STAR Lab’s reception above them. “It was my fault, you know. I’m the reason they’re dead.”

“That’s not true,” Len insisted, his voice so intense and unrelenting that Barry almost believed him. Almost. “You were a kid when your mother died.”

“Yeah, well, would you believe that someone who isn’t even born yet–” _someone who will hopefully never be born now that Iris and Eddie were getting married_ “–travelled back in time and killed her because I pissed him off?” Barry didn’t dare to look at Len’s face now. Didn’t know if he could take whatever it was that he would see there. “I got the chance to save her, too – to save both of them – but I didn’t take it.”

“Why not?” Len asked. He didn’t sound as judgemental as one might have thought. Len’s tone was more soft and curious than that, as though he had faith that Barry had a good reason for what he’d done.

Barry, however, was less convinced.

Sure, he’d tried to save his mother’s life a couple of years ago, on the night that they killed Wells. But he’d stopped himself from taking action… And then, only a few months ago, right after Zoom killed his dad, Barry had wanted to do it anyway.

He’d very, very nearly just gone for it and taken that risk.

But he hadn’t, and whether it was the best thing to do or not, it was something which Barry was now just going to have to live with.

“My future-self warned me not to,” he finally admitted, managing to keep all of the pain bottled up inside and out of his voice.

“Then it sounds to me like you made the right call.”

“I’m still not so sure about that.”

How could Barry _ever_ say for sure that he’d made the right decision?

“I get it,” Len said, but Barry still refused to look at him. “If I had your powers, I’d be tempted to change my past too.” That made sense; Len’s childhood had been just as bad – if not worse – than Barry’s had. Barry had lost his mother, he’d seen her lifeless body underneath that sheet, and he’d had his father taken away from him that very same night. But Barry had also found a new family in Joe and Iris. His life hadn’t all been darkness; he’d had love and opportunities. Len hadn’t had any of that. He’d never had a real father, never had anyone to look up to, who cared for him and showed it. Len had only been berated and beaten and forcibly shoved down a dark path. “And I’m not so sure I’d be smart enough to stop even if someone from the future warned me off.”

“You’re one of the smartest guys I know,” Barry said, finally looking at Len again now. At his shining blue eyes and the pain that rested beneath them which Len was choosing not to hide from Barry now.

“I didn’t even finish high school,” Len quickly rebutted, and Barry shook his head.

“You could have done,” he said, twisting and shuffling his body around so that he was sitting parallel to the wall, facing Len head-on. “But, that’s not what I meant. You may not have built the cold gun, but you taught yourself how to reproduce it, how to modify it without the core exploding. There’s only a handful of people on the entire planet who can do that, and you’re one of them.” Barry emphasised his words with a little, harmless, poke at Len’s chest. “Pretty much every criminal I fight is a meta, but not you. You go up against a speedster with nothing more than a gun in your hands.”

“Sounds pretty dumb to me,” Len said, but there was the tiniest of smiles playing at his lips again.

“Not if you win.”

“I always win.”

“That’s debatable,” Barry laughed. “But you’re better than the others. Even without powers, you keep me on my toes. You can outthink and outmatch anyone. And they know it too, the Rogues follow _your_ lead.” Regardless of what Barry did or did not feel about how Len led his Rogues, he _did_ lead them. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

“Then from one genius to another,” Len drawled playfully, and it made Barry let out a short laugh. Len waited until Barry had settled again, his smile turning soft and a little sad. “Remember to give yourself a break every once in a while. You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened to your parents. It wasn’t your doing.” Barry felt his heart twinge uncomfortably in his chest, his throat becoming thick with guilt. “You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Scarlet,” Len said, his voice quiet and a little raw. “See, unlike you, I actually _did_ kill my father.”

Barry knew that, of course. He’d been there when it happened. But he also knew that Lewis Snart had been a terrible human being, and the world did not mourn his absence. Though, maybe, Len mourned being the one to pull the trigger.

Len had killed before – Barry had, unfortunately, been there for some of those, too – but killing a stranger or a crew member was so very different than killing someone who you, once upon a time, cared for. And Len must have cared for his dad. At some point, even if it was in the very distant past, back when he was only a child. If his father had never meant anything to Len, then he wouldn’t have looked so broken and lost after ending Lewis’ life.

“Do you regret it?” Barry asked though he wasn’t sure if he should.

“I hated him.”

Barry purposefully did not point out that Len hadn’t really answered his question. Barry himself had had people he looked up to and believed in betray his trust, his love. Most of the good memories had gotten tainted by the bad. Still, there were times – times when he was half asleep or not paying too much attention to his own thoughts – where he would think of one of those earlier days after he’d first discovered his powers. He’d think of the first time he had felt the electricity of his powers in his veins, the first time he’d put on the Flash suit, the first time he’d heard Wells’ voice coaching him through his comms… When that happened, for the slightest of moments, Barry would feel happy.

It wouldn’t take long after that for the other memories of Wells to burst his bubble and make him feel physically sick again. But the good feelings attached to those memories were still there, hidden, and nothing Barry could do would get rid of them. And Barry had only known the man who called himself Wells for less than a year. Len, however, had known his father for all of his life. For how complicated Barry’s feelings over Wells and Jay – Eobard Thawne and Hunter Zolomon – were, he wouldn’t be surprised if Len felt more conflicted, even if he didn’t want to acknowledge that.

“Sometimes hate can be a great motivator,” Barry said instead of voicing any of that, instead of putting into words how shattered he’d felt after killing his former mentors. About how their deaths – Barry’s vengeance – had changed nothing and how that had left him feeling empty. “The guy who told me I’d never be happy? He’s the one who killed my mother.”

“Doesn’t sound like the kind of guy you should be listening to,” Len pointed out, and Barry shook his head.

“I didn’t. Not at first, anyway. But then so much went wrong, and I started to feel like I was cursed. I started to wallow in it, I guess.” Barry had felt so hollow after his dad died; he’d been in a worse place than ever before. It had felt as though he’d been teetering on the edge of _something_. Something vast and unknown. Something bleak and dark. “But then I brought myself out of it again,” he said, shaking off the lingering chill from remembering how bad of a state he had been in only a few months ago. “Because I didn’t want to give Wells the satisfaction of being right.” And because he’d had the friends – Len included – who’d helped to pull him through. “So, I don’t let the good moments pass me by anymore. And rather than just waiting for them to happen, I actively seek them out instead. It wasn’t so simple at first, but it gets easier every day.”

“So, what you're saying is,” Len drawled, a tight smile on his face that Barry knew wasn’t entirely effortless. “' _If you want something, take it_ '?”

Barry laughed, surprising himself. "I am not endorsing your thefts."

"Not even if they make me happy?"

Barry didn’t answer then. He was quite possibly a lot more allowing with Len and his criminal activities than he should be. But he still wasn’t at the point where he could verbally _allow_ Len to commit his heists. He still had to put on his front.

With the atmosphere in the elevator becoming lighter again, Barry turned his head so that he could look back up at the gap of space leading out onto the STAR Labs reception above. There was considerably less natural light streaming in now than there had been when they first got stuck here, and Barry frowned. He reached into his pocket – still no cell service, not that he’d expected there to be – and checked the time: it was just shy of 9 pm.

“Looks like I’m not getting to Jitters before they close,” Barry sighed, disappointed. They’d been stuck for an hour and a half now, and they’d seen no signs of any of his team. Barry was beginning to worry that they’d never get out of here.

“Coffee at night, Barry?” Len asked, shaking his head. “And you still want to insist that you don’t have a problem?”

“Shut up,” Barry laughed. “And, anyway, I was thinking more about their cronuts.”

“You’re hungry?”

“I could eat,” Barry shrugged, and Len immediately pulled a candy bar out the pocket of his discarded jacket, offering it over. Barry laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, but happily accepted the chocolate. “I still think it’s a little strange that you carry candy around, but I have never been happier about it than I am right now.”

Len smiled. “Well, I couldn’t have my local speedster running out of juice now, could I?”

“You carry chocolate bars around for _me_?” Barry asked, taken by surprise, and Len looked at him as though he was stupid for not figuring that part out sooner. “You’re a big softie,” Barry said, grinning down at the candy bar as he unwrapped it. “Seriously, you just earned yourself like ten more votes in this Jitters competition.”

“Only ten?” Len drawled, clearly being sarcastic, but Barry grinned.

“Okay, one hundred,” Barry corrected, laughing when Len pulled a face of displeasure.

“On second thoughts, ten is plenty.”

“Oh, come on!” Barry said. “Stop pretending that you hate your drink.” There was a moment where Len said nothing, so Barry took his first bite of nougaty chocolate goodness while he waited.

“It’s not the _worst_ thing I’ve ever had,” Len finally admitted.

“I knew it!” Barry laughed, even with his mouth full. In fact, maybe Len had purposefully waited until after Barry had taken a bite and couldn’t correctly rub Len’s admission in his face.

“It’s too bright, packed with sugar, and tastes nothing like blueberries,” Len listed off, shaking his head. Barry felt the urge to jump in and tell Leonard that it was too late to take anything back now, but he sensed that Len wasn’t finished yet, so he waited, chewing thoughtfully on his candy bar. “But… it reminds me of my grandfather.” There was a very slight smile playing at the corner of Len’s lips. “He owned an ice cream truck when I was a kid, and I used to ride around with him in it.”

Barry was instantly flooded with mental images of little baby Leonard Snart stuffing his face full of ice cream and bobbing his head along to the melody playing from the van. He smiled at the thought of the cute kid that Len had once been, finishing off his last bite of candy as he imagined Len’s chubby little cheeks stuffed with sweets.

“It was a front, of course,” Len continued, breaking Barry’s mental picture just a tad. “A legal excuse for my grandfather to move around so much undetected. Everything in his van was a knock-off brand, including this slushie mix that he used. It was terrible, had no real flavour at all. But it was filled with sugar and turned my tongue blue, so I loved it anyway.” Okay, illegal front or not, that was adorable.

“You sound like you were close with him,” Barry said, also thinking about Len’s earlier statement about jazz music.

“He raised me when Lewis was in prison,” Len said, pausing before adding on: “the first time. But he died soon after.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” Len brushed off. Still, Barry knew from personal experience that time didn’t necessarily heal all wounds.

“Why don’t you tell me about him?”

“I just did.”

“And there’s nothing else you want to say?”

Len just continued staring at Barry, not saying a word, and Barry figured that maybe it was too much to ask. Len didn’t like to be that open with anyone, he preferred to keep everything to himself. It wasn’t good for him, though, and Barry was determined to get his friend to open up.

Though, maybe it might be easier to start smaller first.

“Not about your grandad then,” Barry suggested. “Just… anything. Anything about yourself, now, or stories from your past. I mean… you’re one of my closest friends, but I still know so little about you.” Barry came up with an idea and smiled. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You tell me something about yourself that I don’t know, and I’ll tell you something that you don’t know about me.”

“There’s nothing that I don’t know about you,” Len said, plain and simple as though it were a fact.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Len was pretending he wasn’t tempted, but Barry was sure that it was just an act. Barry was well aware of how nosey his friend could be, and the offer of finding out new info on the Flash was surely something he didn’t want to pass up. But having to share information about himself in return? That might be too much. “Okay, I’ll start,” Barry decided, hoping that Len might be tempted enough to actually join in. “Ever since I got my powers, I can’t get drunk.”

“You can’t?” Len asked, and Barry instantly knew that he’d won.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head and trying not to grin. “My metabolism is too fast. Caitlin and Cisco keep trying to make some super-concentrated alcohol to by-past that, but no luck yet.” Though their most recent attempt was still sitting in the lab upstairs, untested. “Your turn.” Len sat back a little, leaning his head against the wall of the elevator behind them, thinking.

“You know that modification I told you I’d made to the cold gun?” Len eventually asked, and Barry nodded. He wasn’t going to just easily forget about how Len had rigged his weapon to explode. It was a worrying thought. “I lied.”

“Seriously?!” Barry exclaimed, and Len only shrugged. At least that was one thing off of Barry’s mind, even if it wasn’t exactly the kind of information he was hoping to get out of Len with this little game. “Well, in the manner of coming clean: that, err, super-powered cold gun that Cisco threatened you with when you first met… It was actually just a vacuum cleaner.”

“You don’t get points for that one; it wasn’t about you,” Len pointed out. “Also, I already knew it.”

“Liar.”

“Fine, I _suspected_ it,” Len corrected. “Better?”

Barry nodded and looked off into the distance a little as he thought. He wanted Len to know he could talk to Barry about anything, so if he wanted to steer clear of the Flash and Rogues discussion, he should probably venture into more personal stories himself too. But where to start?

“I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, but my parents bought me a fish instead,” Barry said. It was a little weak as far as confessions go, but it was the first thing he could think of that Len wouldn’t know. “I named him Nemo.”

“God, you’re young,” Len muttered, shaking his head. He almost looked _uncomfortable_ with it. Perhaps that had something to do with his constant teasing and sex jokes, though Barry wasn’t going to think about that right now. Not after… Not after Len’s latest round of teasing, which had brought up some very unfortunate questions.

“Oh, no,” Barry said, putting his mind back on track. “No, this was before the cartoon!”

“Sure thing, Kid.”

“It was!” Barry insisted. “I named him after _Captain_ Nemo. From the book, you know: _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_.”

“ _Right_ ,” Len drawled, clearly fighting a smile and looking a little more relaxed again, so Barry figured that Len believed him. There was a moment where Barry didn’t know what to say, and so Len started in again instead. “I had a cat once,” he offered up. “He was a tabby that followed me home from work one night when I was 16 and just never left.”

“What was his name?”

“Lisa named him,” Len said, deliberately not answering the question. Barry was instantly intrigued.

“Oh, now you _have_ to tell me!”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Then I’m just gonna have to make one up.” Len made a gesture that Barry read as ‘ _feel free_ ’, and Barry grinned as he thought up the most ridiculous names he could. “Was it Marmalade?” Barry asked, Len rolled his eyes and stayed quiet, but Barry had a lot worse than that one up his sleeve. “Whiskeridoo?” he asked; still no response. “Mr Ruffles? Peanut Butter Bum? Snugglelumps?”

“All that _this_ ,” Len drawled, emphasising the word by flicking his finger around Barry’s general direction, “has accomplished, is letting me know that you should never name anything. Ever.”

“Was it Rumpelstiltskin?”

“It was a cat, Barry, not a leprechaun.”

“I don’t think Rumpelstiltskin was a leprechaun.” And, anyway, when playing any kind of name-guessing game, you’d be mad not to include it in your list. “You know, if you don’t tell me, I’ll just ask Lisa,” Barry said. “I’m sure she won’t mind filling me in. Shawna too, whiles she’s at it. And Mark, Hartley, Mick…” Though it was possible that Mick already knew, the poorly veiled threat succeeded in making Len frown. He glared back at Barry, and Barry only grinned innocently in return – something that he seemed to have perfected from being around Lisa so much.

Finally, Len sighed.

“It was Princess Meow,” he admitted, head hung low, and Barry just stared back at Len in shock. A few seconds passed before he erupted into thunderous laughter, shaking his whole body. He imagined Len standing on a doorstep and calling out his cat’s name to tempt it inside for the night.

He imagined Len going to a pet store and purposefully getting ‘Princess Meow’ engraved onto a name tag, glaring down anyone who so much as sniggered at him.

He imagined Len taking it to the vet and having to give over the cat’s name to the receptionist; the image of a tall, dark, handsome man dressed head to toe in black leather and denim, holding a scruffy cat with a sparkly collar that read ‘Princess Meow Snart’.

Each and every new scenario that passed through Barry’s mind made him laugh harder than the last.

“I thought you said it was male!” Barry finally managed to get out after he’d began to calm down.

“He was,” Len deadpanned, and his clearly unimpressed tone of voice brought Barry back out into another giggle fit. “Lisa didn’t seem to care.”

By the time that Barry finally finished laughing, wiping his eyes free of the tears of joy that had gathered there, he noticed that Len was smiling now. Or, his _eyes_ were smiling, anyway. His lips were still downturned into an intense and displeased scowl, but his eyes were lit with laughter of his own.

Barry decided to share something equally as embarrassing to level the playing field a bit: “I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 18.”

“With Daphne Dean,” Len nodded, “I know.”

“What? How do you know that?” Barry demanded. Len shrugged, explaining that Daphne was a movie star now, and it turns out that people ask some bizarre questions at Comic-Con. Barry nodded at that, frowning as he thought up something else. “I used to be in my school’s Glee Club.”

“Actually, you _ran_ your school’s Glee Club,” Len corrected, and Barry pursed his lips. Len couldn’t know _everything_ about him!

“I…” Barry’s mind was coming up blank now. Or, at least, it was for his childhood. But more recently… “I met an alien last year.” It wasn’t exactly an embarrassing fact like Barry had planned on, but it was certainly an interesting one, and Len didn’t have anything ready for that admission. Barry grinned, knowing that he had – at least temporarily – stunned the man into silence.

“You’re lying,” Len eventually said.

“God’s honest truth.”

“Go on then,” Len prompted for more information, and Barry shook his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, knowing that he had a winning hand with this one. “I am literally giving you the answer to one of man’s greatest questions here. I’d say that that deserves _at least_ ten facts from you before I can give you the full story.”

“Except, the deal was for _personal_ information,” Len argued, “and I get the feeling that this story doesn’t have too much to do with yourself.”

“Are you saying you _don’t_ want to hear about Kara Zor-El from the planet Krypton?”

Len stared at Barry, and Barry stared right on back. Truthfully, he was as eager to share this story with Len as Len probably was to hear it. After all, it was _aliens_!

A few seconds ticked on by, but Barry said nothing, and Len’s blank mask was beginning to crack.

“Five facts,” he bargained, and Barry considered it for a moment before nodding.

“Deal.”

“I’m Jewish,” Len stated straight off the bat.

“You are?” Barry asked. How had he not known that? After a moment of thinking on it, Barry’s eyes widened with realisation. “Wait, I’ve cooked you sausages!”

“Out of my own fridge, Barry; calm down,” Len reminded him, and Barry sighed in relief. “I’m not very strict about it.” Len paused, his lips quirking up wickedly. “I’m going to count that last part as fact number two, by the way.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Did you expect me to play fair?” Len asked, and Barry glared back at him. It was half-assed, though, and Len knew as well as Barry did that he wouldn’t withhold the alien story for a technicality. “I refused to actually call our cat by his name, so I called him Dog instead because Lisa hated it.”

Barry laughed at that one, reminded of similar things that he and Iris had done when they were kids. Iris was his best friend back then as much as she was now, but even best friends bickered and occasionally argued when they were forced to share space together. Especially when said friends were only kids with no concept of conflict resolution.

“I won’t play poker with her anymore because she is a lot better at it than I am, and also a sore winner,” Len continued, and Barry kept laughing. He had no doubt about the truth of that one. Lisa was great, and Barry was fond of her, but he could definitely see her gloating and rubbing her winnings into everyone’s faces. Barry made a mental note never to play any game with her…

So, that was four facts, and Barry sat back and waited for the fifth. He looked to Len and found his friend looking right on back. There was an expression on his face which was difficult to describe. It was a loaded kind of look, deep and packed full of warring emotions.

“And I…” Len began to say, but then he stopped himself again. Whatever he wanted to tell Barry, it must have been important, and so Barry silently waited him out. Eventually, Len shook his head. “I’m not very good at being open, not even with Lisa and Mick. But I’m trying. For you.”

It wasn’t necessarily a fact which Barry didn’t know. But he could see that it had been difficult for Len to admit nonetheless, and so he didn’t argue it or push for one more story.

Instead, Barry smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Now, tell me about aliens.”

So, Barry did. He told Len the whole story of how he’d accidentally breached through to Kara’s earth, and caught her when she was freefalling out of a skyscraper. He’d thought he’d saved her life, but once he’d stopped running, she just took off flying. Barry told Len everything he knew about Kara, and Krypton, and just _aliens_. Until, eventually, there was nothing left to say.

“Out of everything I thought could happen today,” Len said, “finding out that aliens exist was not on my list.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mind-boggler,” Barry admitted, and Len let out a short laugh.

“Compared to you, Barry,” he drawled, “my life is boring.”

“Yeah, I mean, you may as well just give up on this whole supervillain thing and go clean,” Barry prodded, though he wasn’t actually pushing for Len to make that change. He’d accepted his friend for who he was and would never think of changing him. However, taunting each other had kind of become a part of their natural state of being, so… “You’ve already got the house in the suburbs with the white-picket-fence.”

Len laughed at that, and it made Barry laugh in turn, just a small chuckle, but Barry’s cheeks began to ache from it. Despite that, Barry couldn’t entirely knock the smile off of his face, even after the laughter had died down again, and they just sat there, smiling at each other in the quickly darkening elevator while the soft music continued to play overhead.

A single ray of light shone into the room, perhaps reflected off of a nearby passing car, and the light skimmed quickly across Len’s face. When it hit his eyes, they glistened that vibrant sky blue. It only lasted for a second, if not less than that. Still, Barry saw it and was captivated by how the colour quickly shifted back into midnight blue instead. There was something so mystifying about the colour of Len’s eyes, so breath-taking when viewed up-close, that Barry didn’t initially realise that Len was staring back at him with as much awe as was on Barry’s face.

When Barry did realise, though, he began to feel hot under his skin, as though the heat of Len’s gaze equalled that of a thousand lightbulbs surrounding him. Barry’s mind was brought back to the confession from earlier that wasn’t really a confession. It had just been a taunt, a challenge. Len had said so himself! He hadn’t meant any of it…

But, regardless, Barry felt his stomach flip in a way which it shouldn’t, considering that it was only a friend that he was looking at and not – _not_ – someone who he had genuine romantic feelings for. He didn’t. He…

Did he?

Barry’s heart leapt up into his throat, and he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“What?” he asked, needing to know why it was that Len was looking at him this way, hoping that it would put his mind – and body – to rest.

“I was just thinking,” Len said. His words weren’t drawled in the dramatic way that Len so often spoke. They were barer than that, more open. And the smile on his lips was so… _honest_. “Out of everyone I could have been stuck in an elevator with… I’m glad it was you.” Barry felt his own smile tugging at his lips as he averted his gaze to the floor between them, feeling the weight of Len’s mesmerising blue eyes on him, heating up the air between them and making his breathing quicken.

“Ditto,” Barry said shyly.

“ _Ditto_?” Len deadpanned. “Really?” Barry’s eyes flickered back up to his friend’s face without his permission, and he let out a small laugh at the utterly unimpressed look that Len was wearing. Though it began to crack again as he watched Barry smile. “Put some feeling into it. I almost don’t believe you.”

“No, I mean it,” Barry insisted, feeling the heat flooding his cheeks and making them a darker and darker shade of red with each passing millisecond. “I mean it,” he repeated. “I don’t know, I guess I got used to spending so much time with you while we were working together on the Fries case, and now…” Barry shrugged.

How could he explain what he felt when he barely even understood it himself?

Though… Barry thought that he might have an idea now… because there were three little words sitting on the tip of his tongue. Three words which were so easy to say, and yet Barry was almost _scared_ to say them.

It wasn’t the three words that Cisco or Caitlin might have believed he would say to Len, and yet Barry thought that they maybe, possibly, _probably_ meant the same thing anyway.

“And now?” Len prompted. His back was still pressed against the wall behind them, but he was leaning in closer now, sitting on the edge of his proverbial seat in anticipation of what Barry was going to say.

Barry felt the urge to look away again, but he couldn’t find the strength to do it, feeling as though he was being pinned in place by Len’s eyes on his own.

His lips felt dry all of a sudden, and Barry wet them with his tongue. Len’s eyes tracked the movement in a way that almost seemed unconscious. It wasn’t a role Len was playing, it wasn’t an act, wasn’t some way to tease and taunt Barry, it wasn’t a game. It was just _Len_.

“I missed you,” Barry finally admitted, not one hundred percent sure where his bravado had come from. Len’s eyes flickered back up to meet Barry’s again. They were so dark that Barry found himself actively searching for the hints of blue inside them. He recognised that he was leaning in closer now, too. But he couldn’t stop himself, nor did he even know if he _wanted_ to stop.

“It’s only been a week.”

“I know,” Barry whispered. It had actually been less than a week since Len was last here in STAR Labs. And they had seen each other – albeit briefly for the most part – three times since then, and they spoke every single day on the phone. However… “I still missed you.”

Barry felt a little lightheaded, his breathing coming out fast, his heart racing even faster. He was all too aware of what he sounded like, all too aware that this was _precisely_ the type of conversation that Cisco and Caitlin would have teased him mercilessly over. Barry didn’t want to think about that, though. He didn’t want to think about his team, nor their ludicrous idea that Barry had any kind of romantic feelings for Leonard Snart. Because when Barry started to think about that, which usually happened late at night while he was tossing and turning in bed and struggling to get to sleep, Barry began getting _ideas_ in his head.

Terrible ideas. Horrible ones, really, which could only serve to ruin the friendship that he and Len had built together. Barry was so sure that this was the case. And yet…

And yet, when Len looked at Barry like that… Well, those ideas didn’t sound quite so terrible anymore.

They were still sitting so close to each other, so close that Barry could smell the scent of Len’s soap on his skin, that woody, citrusy smell which made Barry’s heart do flips in his chest.

Len’s eyes were so piercing that Barry found he couldn’t keep looking at them for much longer, his gaze falling lower instead to take in the curve of his mouth, the slightest of smiles resting there. His lips looked a little chapped, but they also looked warm and pink and welcoming, and Barry wanted–

There was the sound of heeled footsteps on the tiled floor outside the elevator, and Barry zipped up to his feet. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he chose to ignore that as he turned to face the elevator door and stared up at the small gap of space towards the floor above. The sound was getting louder, coming closer, Barry couldn’t see who it was yet, but he recognised those footsteps; he’d grown up with them for half of his life.

“Iris?” Barry called up, and the steps faltered for a moment. Barry could picture her turning around to look for him. “Iris, we’re in the elevator.”

“Barry?” Iris asked. She started walking again, quicker now until she came into Barry’s line of sight, crouching down to look inside the elevator now, though she obviously couldn’t see much because a second later she asked: “Who’s ‘ _we_ ’?” Barry cast a glance over his shoulder and made eye contact with Len, where he was still sitting on the floor and leaning casually back against the elevator wall.

“A pleasure to talk to you again, Miss West,” Len drawled. His face was eerily blank as he spoke. Barry’s heart raced, wondering if Len had somehow known what Barry had been thinking about before Iris had shown up. Barry hoped that wasn’t the case. He didn’t want one moment of reckless stupidity to taint their friendship.

“Do Caitlin and Cisco know you’re down there?” Iris asked, bringing Barry’s mind back to the situation at hand.

“I think so,” Barry said, shrugging and still not bringing up the fact that they had probably been the ones to abandon them in this elevator in the first place.

He told Iris what had happened, and she nodded. As he explained, he heard Len moving about behind him and turned back to face his friend, watching him struggle to his feet, trying to use his cane to support himself. Barry paused to offer Len a hand but was surprised when Len actually accepted his help. Len’s palm was surprisingly warm in Barry’s, comfortable and firm, and Barry felt almost reluctant to let go once Len was back on his feet again. He very deliberately did not think about why that was, though, having already had far too many crises of heart for one day.

“I’ll go get help,” Iris promised, and when Barry turned back to her, he noticed an odd expression on her face – as though she had been able to read Barry’s mind too! – before she slipped out of sight to find Barry’s team.

[] [] []

“ _Boo_!” Lisa complained, throwing a handful of popcorn at the computer screen in disappointment. Cisco couldn’t help but mirror her sentiment, and he got the feeling that Caitlin agreed too. They had been so _close_ , and now all their hard work was for nothing. Cisco sighed, watching as Barry talked to Iris, shaking his head with the distinct feeling in his chest that this past hour and a half had been entirely for nothing.

Or, well, maybe not for _nothing_. Lisa had certainly enjoyed herself here tonight. She’d even bonded with Caitlin as all three of them took it in turns to guess what Barry and Leonard were saying to each other in that elevator. None of them had taken their game seriously, of course, and most of it had been trivial little jokes, but it had been fun.

As Iris moved from the elevator and headed for the stairs, Cisco closed down the CCTV programme completely, shutting them off from the live feed in the elevator. Lisa pushed away from the desk and stood.

“Well, this has been disappointing,” she announced, stretching her arms out above her head and displaying the surprising amount of defined muscle she had there. “And I am getting out of here before the reporter shows up.” Caitlin immediately stood to show Lisa the best way out of the building to avoid Iris, as well as Barry and Snart. While she did that, Cisco got to work tidying up empty takeaway containers and stashing the popcorn in a cupboard.

Caitlin was back and sitting again, the room spotless, by the time that Iris showed her face.

“Hey, guys, do you know that–”

“Barry’s stuck in the elevator?” Caitlin finished for her, and Iris nodded. “We’re working on it.”

“Actually,” Cisco said, looking up from the computer now, “your timing is impeccable.” Impeccably _bad_ , that is. “I’ve just finishing reprogramming the glitch out, so the lift should be back online any second now.”

Cisco entered the revised code on his computer and sat back in his seat, trying to express his pride at a job well done even though he felt the opposite. Truthfully, he wasn’t so sure if there was any point in lying about what they’d done tonight as Cisco was confident that Barry would have pieced it together by now. But that wouldn’t have mattered if Iris hadn’t shown up when she did.

If she’d waited just a _little_ longer, waited until after Barry and Leonard had kissed, then Cisco and Caitlin would have a leg to stand on for their defence. But as it was, Barry was less likely to accept that they’d only done this whole thing to help him….

But, hey, maybe they’d get lucky, and Barry would buy their excuse!

Maybe…

[] [] []

After Iris left to go get help, Barry took a moment to compose himself again.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him. Well, no, actually, that was a lie. Cisco and Caitlin were what had got into him! The way they kept insisting that he and Len were anything more than friends, the way that _everyone_ kept jumping to that conclusion…

It was frustrating!

Barry liked Len. He had very strong feelings for Len, in fact.

Very strong, completely platonic, non-sexual feelings.

Whatever thoughts he’d had a minute ago, whatever desire he’d felt, that was just his friends talking. They were getting inside his head and making him doubt everything that he’d thought he’d known about his relationship – his _non-romantic_ relationship – with Leonard Snart.

Or maybe it was the lack of circulating air in the elevator? Perhaps that and the heat and everything else had just made him a bit loopy? Or there were many other reasons, Barry was sure, that he would start acting in such a stupid way.

And now that Iris was here and getting help, the elevator would soon be moving again, and Barry would finally be able to get a breath of fresh air that wasn’t so polluted with the scent of Leonard Snart!

Not that it was a _bad_ smell; it was just… distracting.

Barry turned back to face his friend now, smiling; he was feeling a little shaky, but his breathing and heart rate had both calmed down again, so Barry took that as a win.

“We’ll be out of here in–”

Barry’s words were suddenly cut off, as he found it extremely difficult to talk with another man’s tongue in his mouth.

_Len_ ’s tongue.

Because Len was… _Oh_.

Len was kissing him, his hand buried into the front of Barry’s shirt, holding on tight, but not so tight that Barry couldn’t have manoeuvred out of it if he’d wanted to.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Barry sighed against Len’s lips, sinking into the kiss and stumbling freely forward as Len tugged him closer, deeper into his waiting arms.

Barry didn’t think he had the words to describe it: to express the warmth of Len’s skin, the wet heat of his tongue, the scrape of his stubbled jaw. It was rough and yet also so very sweet. And despite the intense and unsuspected way the kiss had begun, Len’s lips were soft and tender, as though worshipping Barry’s body with every flick of his tongue. The kiss had come on so fast that Barry hadn’t been prepared, and it was over again far, far too quickly.

As Len pulled away, Barry found himself leaning in further in an attempt to chase Len’s lips as though they were his grounding force and the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor. But it was too late. The kiss was already broken.

“–no time,” Barry needlessly finished his earlier comment, his voice breathless even to his own ears. He blinked his eyes back open, not even sure of when exactly it was that he’d closed them in the first place.

Len was hovering in front of him, too close for Barry to actually look into his eyes, so he looked down instead. Down at the hand still wrapped up in Barry’s shirt, resting directly over his heart, pressed against his chest in a way that left no doubt that Len could feel the way it pounded erratically.

Barry’s mind was firing on all cylinders. Unfortunately, that all only amounted to incomprehensible and unending screaming inside his head. Barry couldn’t think properly, couldn’t form a coherent thought if his life depended on it. All Barry could do was remember the pressure of Len’s lips against his and the way that they – the way that _Len_ – tasted.

All Barry knew was that he’d liked it.

Len began to pull further away, far enough that Barry could look up again, look up into those deep, endless blue eyes. And the way that Len was looking at him, the way that his eyes roamed Barry’s face as though committing every single freckle, every crinkle, every eyelash to his memory… That look would have taken Barry’s breath away if Len’s lips hadn’t already succeeded in doing it for him. Len looked as though he didn’t know whether to take another step away or to push back forward again instead. So, Barry took the choice out of his hands.

He brought his hand up to cup Len’s jaw, framing his face, and Barry felt the fingers buried in his shirt tighten eagerly in response. Barry dipped forward, watching as Len’s eyes fluttered closed before Barry’s joined them.

When their lips met this time, it wasn’t half as sweet as before. It wasn’t tender. It was hard; their bodies pressed tight against one another, the muscle of Len torso unyielding against Barry’s hands. It was rough; their lips dry and parched, Len’s hand letting go of its grasp in Barry’s shirt only to slide lower, dipping under the hem of the material so that his callous fingers could rub harsh circles against Barry’s bare skin. It was biting; Len’s teeth nipping against Barry’s lips, his jaw, his neck, drawing breathless gasps from his parted lips.

It was desperate and born of a need so potent that Barry felt it in his bones.

Barry pushed forwards, harder and sharper, and Len let out a gasp of pain as it put too much weight onto his injured leg. Barry pulled back instantly with an apology on his tongue, but Len didn’t want to hear it, yanking Barry back in and kissing his words away as they fell against the elevator wall behind him.

It was about then that the lift began to descend, and Barry and Len both jumped away in surprise. Barry’s heart was in his throat at the unannounced movement. For one frightening second, he genuinely believed the elevator was falling. But, of course, it wasn’t, and Barry could only laugh off his fear as his forehead fell forward to rest against Len’s. The doors they’d pried open now closed, and the overhead lights flickered back on one at a time as the lift – having stalled after overshooting the ground floor – made its way down towards the basement.

As the lift moved, Barry felt more than heard, the way that Len began to laugh too, the vibrations of it echoed against his body from where they were pressed against one another, and the flutter of air brushed against Barry’s cheek from Len’s lips. Though the sound was pleasant too, deep and warm and welcoming.

Barry liked Len’s laugh.

He closed his eyes again as he rested there, caging Len in against the wall, their bodies touching from head to toe. The lift paused momentarily at the basement level before going back up towards the first floor, and Barry smiled. He was surprisingly calm, his mind having fallen blissfully silent. Barry stood there, breathing in the scent of Len, the scent of… sandalwood, maybe? It was rich, and earthy, and sweet, and Barry wanted to bury himself in that scent forever.

The elevator stopped moving, and the doors opened, but Barry couldn’t find the energy in himself to push away from Len now. He felt…

Well, actually, Barry wasn’t completely sure how he felt, except that it was good, nice, warm, light.

Len’s thumb continued to rub circles against Barry’s hip, slow and soft movements that made Barry feel like he could fall asleep right there and then, even as he still remained standing.

Barry stayed in that moment, silent, for as long as he could, eyes closed, basking in this feeling. He didn’t dare to start moving or speaking, and he _definitely_ didn’t want to start questioning anything. Because, right now, the last thing that Barry wanted was to overthink this whole situation.

Len pressed a soft open-mouthed kiss to Barry’s cheek, and then another one shortly after, wordlessly tempting Barry to turn his head a little more and meet Len’s mouth. Which he did. Len’s tongue swiped out against Barry’s lips, and it sent a chill down Barry’s spine which settled low in his groin. They were standing so impossibly close together, with Len’s back pressed hard against the elevator wall behind. But Barry found a way to push even closer still as he chased the euphoria of Len’s lips, his leg nuzzling its way in between Len’s and pressing firmly against him.

One of Len’s hands came up to rest at the back of Barry’s neck, his fingers tangling into the mess of Barry’s hair as their kiss deepened further still. For a moment, Barry’s mind was alight again with questions and doubts, but Barry pushed all of that aside. The truth was, he didn’t know why Len had kissed him, didn’t know what he felt or how deep this went, he just knew that he wanted Len, here and now, and everything else – if there _was_ anything else – could be figured out later. He was running purely on impulse here, leading with his heart for once rather than his head. Or possibly, Barry was being driven by something much lower, richer, more carnal than his heart.

But whatever it was, Barry had exactly zero complaints.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t stay that way forever, and Barry’s wakeup call came as the sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor down the corridor and fast approaching the elevator.

Iris.

Barry maybe, possibly, let out a small yelp of surprise, his eyes flung open as he zipped backwards out of Len’s arms.

The haze that had overcome him was broken. The lights in the elevator were now too bright after so long of darkness, and the warmth beneath Barry’s skin suddenly too hot and suffocating. Len looked thoroughly dishevelled, and Barry could see from his own reflection in the mirrored walls behind that he didn’t appear all that much better either. They looked as though they’d been in here making out for the past ten minutes, which – of course – they had been. But Barry realised at that moment that he wasn’t ready to own up to that yet. He wasn’t ready for Iris’ quirked eyebrow, or Caitlin’s sly smile, or Cisco’s _I-told-you-so_.

He _wasn’t_ _ready_.

And Barry… Well, he wasn’t exactly proud of what he did next.

He slipped into superspeed, racing forward and scooping Len up, carrying him out of the elevator and through the corridors. He took the long way out of the building to avoid running past Iris and dropped Len off out front next to his bike.

Then Barry just ran away.

Not away from STAR Labs, but from Len, rushing back into the building without so much as even pausing to say goodbye or explain himself. Barry just… left him there, standing in front of his bike, alone.

He did _not_ feel good about it.

Barry stopped running again once he’d made it back inside and was standing in the building’s entryway, the glass wall separating Barry from Len now – not that they could see each other, though, what with the windows all boarded up on the outside. He used the glass reflection as a mirror to fix his hair and outfit before Iris found him half a minute later, gliding into the room with a look of exasperation on her face.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” she said, appearing a little frustrated.

“Yeah, sorry,” Barry said, hooking his thumb back over his shoulder to point out the door behind him. “I, err, I had to see Len out.” As though on cue, Barry heard the tell-tale sound of Len’s motorbike starting up. The engine revved loud and then filtering out into silence as Len pulled away from the curb and out of the car park. The farther away the sound got, the worse the clenching in Barry’s stomach felt.

“Len?” Iris repeated, unsure, and Barry’s eyes went wide.

_Crap_.

How was he fucking this up already?!

“Leonard Snart,” Barry elaborated. Iris studied him for a couple of seconds, which felt far too long what with his superspeed making the room slow to a halt. Barry had to physically resist fixing his hair or outfit again, folding his arms instead. Finally, Iris nodded. “Anyway, why are you here?” Barry asked. Not that there was anything else Barry would rather be doing. Definitely not.

"I need to interview you."

"Interview me? About what?"

"Actually… about Captain Cold," she said, and Barry just about had a heart attack.

"What? Really? I don't– What could I possibly tell you about Leonard Snart that you don’t already know?" Besides what his lips tasted like... But Barry was _not_ prepared to think about that right now.

"You haven't seen the news, have you?" she asked. And that got Barry's heart racing in an entirely different way. "Right, of course not,” Iris laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve been stuck in an elevator.” Barry laughed along with her, but it was tighter and higher pitched than normal, not very convincing at all. “One of the employees at the bank released some footage of the two of you working together to take down Victor Fries," she explained. "It's a big story. Everyone wants to know if Captain Cold has turned hero."

"He hasn't," Barry answered immediately, though he knew it wasn’t _Iris_ who he would need to convince, and his stomach dropped to the floor as that realisation truly settled in. Iris wouldn’t need convincing that Captain Cold was still very much a criminal. The general public, though? And, for that matter, the rest of Len’s Rogues?

That would be a whole other kettle of fish.

And Barry knew that it wouldn't matter what he – what the Flash – said. Word was already out there now, Captain Cold was already in the spotlight, and Barry could only guess at how that would affect Len's life.

This could be a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have _**so much**_ to say but I don’t want this AN to get much longer, so I’ll stick to the important stuff.
> 
> First, what are your thoughts on the surprise kiss?  
> I’d planned for their first kiss to be more traditional. But I’ve done a lot of interrupted almost-kisses so far in this fic, so I thought that following up an almost-kiss with a real one would be a lot more rewarding to read. I know that surprise kisses can borderline dubcon, so I really tried to minimise that aspect. But I’m still concerned that it might be taken the wrong way. Please give me your honest thoughts, because I will take another go at rewriting that scene if I need to.
> 
> Also, the reason why I asked at the end of the last chapter if Lisa was interfering too soon is because she was initially going to wait until after she’d overheard Barry make his awkward “it’s ridiculous” comment about dating Len. Then Len would have shut down and left without telling Barry how he felt. Only after that was Lisa was going to trap them together and force them to talk. However, I wanted to cut down on the chapter count and remove some of the angst, so I merged those ideas into one. I kind of knew that Lisa’s plan would come off looking as though it was for nothing but, trust me, she was always going to need to interfere.
> 
> Anyway, go ahead and yell at me now, I know you want to xD


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I’m hoping to get back to weekly updates soon, but I had a big interview yesterday which I had to prepare for all week, so that took priority. Also, because of that, I'm just too exhausted to go over this chapter as thoroughly as I normally would, so apologies in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes you might find. Feel free to let me know if you come across any.

“Okay, so after you and…” Iris paused for a moment before continuing with: “Len–” Yeah, Barry probably shouldn’t have let that one slip. He blamed his anxiety for it; he really did. How was he supposed to focus on answering Iris’ questions when he couldn’t stop thinking about the caress of Len’s lips against his own? “–got to the bank, what happened next?”

“Pretty much just what the video shows, you know,” Barry said. And hadn’t _that_ been an interesting watch. Iris had shown him the leaked security video on her phone as they’d made their way up to the next floor – using the _stairs_ because Barry didn’t think he could stand one more second in that elevator – and found a nice comfortable lab where they could sit and talk away from Cisco and Caitlin, who Barry was still mad at.

The beginning of the video had gone pretty much exactly how Barry remembered it. But the end… the part only seconds before Len got hurt…

Barry hadn’t realised it at the time, but watching the scene back now, he saw the way that Fries had been advancing on Barry’s position, ready to attack with everything he had. On the video, Barry saw the look of panic cross Len’s face behind those goggles; it only lasted for a split second, but it was there – clear as day – and Barry wondered how he’d never noticed it before.

And then Len was jumping up from behind his place of cover, immediately on the offence, attacking Fries before Barry could get hurt.

It was surreal footage to watch, even more so after… after _what had happened_ in the elevator only minutes earlier. Barry thought about the things that Len had said to him today, about that love confession that wasn’t _really_ a love confession. Unless it _was_. And, after that kiss, Barry was inclined to believe the latter.

And when you added all of that together, it was… Well, it was confusing, is what it was!

“Len got the guy’s attention while I ran the hostages out of there,” Barry said, trying to get his mind back on track, sticking to the facts. The facts were easier to deal with. “We figured that the cold gun wouldn’t work on Freeze, though, so we just used it to draw him out, make him think that Len was trapped, and get him into a more open room where I could get the cuffs on him.” Barry realised he’d been pacing the lab and put effort into stopping, but it wasn’t easy.

“When did Snart get injured?” Iris asked, not looking up as she scribbled down notes on her jotter.

“Who told you that?” Barry asked, frowning. The video had shown Freeze attacking Len with a cold energy blast, but it was such a close call that it looked as though Barry had whisked Len off before the blast had made contact. And Barry had been sure not to mention it up to now as he’d thought Len wouldn’t like the injury immortalised in the written word.

“Caitlin told me last week that she had to treat him for frostbite,” Iris answered, finally looking up with a sly smile on her face. “I hear that he doesn’t take to drugs very well,” she laughed, but Barry didn’t. None of this was funny to him.

“I’d rather that stayed off the record,” he said, and Iris sobered up. She frowned but nodded before flicking through her pages and writing ‘off record’ down next to a previous paragraph. When she lifted her head back up again, she was still frowning, and Barry couldn’t shake the feeling that she was studying him carefully. It made him a little uncomfortable. He reached for his phone, checking to make sure he had no missed calls or texts from Len.

He didn’t.

Barry didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.

“Barry…” Iris said, sounding a little troubled. Barry lifted his head and stuffed the phone back into his pocket so that she had his full attention. “There’s something I’ve meant to ask you for a while now,” she admitted. “But I guess I have just been a little worried about what the answer might be.”

“You can ask me anything,” Barry said instantly. He got the distinct feeling that this was a sit-down kind of conversation, so he moved around the cluttered worktop bench that separated them and took a seat on one of the stools next to Iris. “I’m here for you. You know that.”

“I do,” she nodded, smiling, Though the smile was certainly tight. After a few seconds, she closed her notebook and swivelled her seat around so that she could face Barry head-on, taking his hand in hers. “And you know that I love you, no matter what the answer is, right? You can always be honest with me.”

“I know,” Barry nodded, though he was beginning to get a little worried. It felt suspiciously like the conversation they’d had as teenagers when Barry had come out to her as bisexual. It wasn’t exactly his favourite memory. Not because Iris had taken it poorly or anything! She had been so accepting of him that it had made him love her even more. But it still made the twist of anxiety spark in Barry’s chest to think about coming out to someone, and Barry wasn’t sure if that feeling would ever entirely go away.

Still, that wasn’t what this was about, he was sure. Iris already knew, as did Joe, Eddie, Caitlin, and Cisco. Everyone was completely fine with it.

So, what _was_ this about?

“What’s wrong?” he asked when Iris didn’t make to say anything else. She began to tap her finger against his hand, biting nervously against her bottom lip, before sitting up straight and taking in a big deep breath.

“Are you dating Captain Cold?” she asked in a rush, as though she was trying to get the words all out as quickly as she could so they didn’t get stuck on her tongue.

“ _What_?” Barry asked, pulling his hand out of Iris’ grip in surprise. “No! No, that’s… that’s insane,” he continued, feeling his cheeks heat up as his heart raced in his chest. He was all too aware of how high-pitched his voice had gotten, and he had absolutely no doubt that Iris could see he was freaking out.

“Barry…” Iris began, but Barry wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ – let her continue.

“Okay, so, yeah. Len and I have been spending a lot of time together,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “But it’s not… it’s not _that_ ,” Barry insisted. Technically, he wasn’t lying. Regardless of what had happened in the elevator, he and Len were not dating. Whether that would stay true for much longer, though… Barry couldn’t answer that question, so it was a good thing Iris wasn’t asking it.

“Then what is it?” Iris pressed, her voice careful. Her eyes were so big and open and caring, and Barry could barely stand to look at them.

“It’s… We’re friends!” Barry said; he was beginning to feel a bit sick. “Nothing more.”

“It’s okay,” Iris said.

_Was_ it okay?

This was _Leonard Snart_ they were talking about. Being friends with him was one thing, but having _feelings_ for him? Stealing kisses in broken-down elevators was not something that Barry had signed up for, no matter how good it had felt.

Iris was looking at him now as though she _understood_ , but she couldn’t. Barry had been keeping so much of his relationship with Len a secret from her these past few months – hell, it seemed he’d been keeping it a secret from _himself_ too – so there was no way that she could ever possibly hope to comprehend the crap-fest that had been his decision making process this evening.

At Barry’s continued silence, Iris placed her hand gently on his once more.

“So, how did you become friends with Leonard Snart?” she asked, and Barry shook his head.

“It’s a long story.” A story which Barry didn’t even fully know himself. Until a couple of hours ago, Barry hadn’t known that part of that story involved a god's honest _fake relationship_! With a supervillain. Barry was fake dating a supervillain, and he hadn’t even known about it! And even now, Barry wasn’t so clear on the details there. He hadn’t asked many questions, hadn’t really wanted to, he was just so relieved that finally there was a reason why Shawna, and Sam, and Lisa, and Mick, and probably – definitely – all of the other Rogues thought that he was in love with Len.

“Does it have anything to do with your secretive Thursday nights?” Iris asked, catching Barry off-guard. When he only baulked back at her, Iris smiled. “You’re a terrible liar,” she explained, and Barry couldn’t help the bubble of laughter which burst out at that; this conversation, at least, Barry knew well.

“Yeah, Len keeps telling me that,” he said without really thinking it through. Barry winced, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of more brutal questions, but Iris sighed softly instead.

“So, you’re friends with Snart,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but Barry nodded his head anyway. “Just friends?” Barry nodded again, only hesitating a _little_. “So, you’ve not been checking your phone obsessively for the last half an hour because you’re hoping he’ll text you?” Iris asked, and Barry opened his mouth to deny it. But then he had to snap it closed again because, well, that was _exactly_ what Barry had been doing… “Have you kissed him?"

Barry just about choked on his own spit.

"No!” he practically shouted. He probably _would_ have shouted, actually, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was struggling to breathe. “That's...” Barry cleared his throat, managing to catch his breath again. “That's crazy, Iris. How would... why..."

Barry knew that he’d royally fucked up there the moment that Iris quirked her eyebrow at him while he was still trying to stammer out an excuse.

"Do you wanna try that one again?" she asked, her eyes were laughing even if her mouth wasn’t.

"It wasn't what it sounds like!" Barry defended himself, and now Iris was grinning.

"Really? Because it sounds like you kissed him."

"I... Just... Fuck."

"Language, Barry!” she taunted. “Jeez. Do you kiss Leonard Snart with that mouth?"

" _Iris_!" Barry exclaimed, not knowing what else he could do or say. Iris really did start laughing now, practically folding herself in two with the strength of it. Barry just kept opening and closing his mouth, trying to form words. _Any_ words.

"Sorry, sorry,” she said, her laughter beginning to die down again now, “what were you saying?"

"He...” Barry sighed, shaking his head as the fight deflated out of his shoulders. “He kissed me."

"When?"

"About, err... 10 seconds after you left us in the elevator to get help."

"Barry, you dog!” Iris cheered. “Getting it on with Leonard Snart in the STAR Labs elevator."

"It was one kiss!" Or three… Four? The further away that moment got, the less clearly Barry could remember it. Not that he was angling for a refresher or anything. Or… maybe he was? Barry honestly _didn’t know_.

“Are you sure? Because I was there when he broke into Dad’s house,” Iris reminded him, a smile in her voice. “You didn’t seem all that shy about pushing him up against a wall.”

“He was my nemesis!” Barry said defensively. Iris just quirked an eyebrow back at him, the ‘ _sure, Barry_ ’ implied but not spoken. Barry dropped his head into his hands.

“Fine, okay! I believe you. It was just the one kiss… so far.” It was official: Barry had the worst friends. "Was it good?" Barry peeked at Iris from between his fingers, feeling his face heat up with the intensity of his blush.

"It was... it was, you know... he..." Barry stammered out, and Iris grinned.

"You might as well just say yes; I can read it on your face anyway."

"Yes,” Barry sighed, dropping his hands back down into his lap since they were _clearly_ doing no good at obscuring his expressions anyway. Barry thought about the kiss… About the way Len’s hand had felt, rubbing circles against Barry’s exposed skin. About Len’s skilled tongue and the things that it had done to him… as well as the things that Barry would have let it do to him if the kiss had continued for much longer… "It was pretty great."

“And to think I very nearly bought that whole ‘ _we’re not dating_ ’ shtick.”

“We’re not.”

“Barry, come on,” she pushed, but there must have been something in his expression that gave her pause as Iris soon began to frown. “What happened?” Barry didn’t want to be honest about this. He didn’t want to explain what had happened and how terrible of a person he was. But the truth was weighing him down, and Barry knew that he had to tell _someone_.

“When I heard you coming back to find me… I freaked out,” he admitted. “I basically kicked Len to the curb without even talking to him.”

Len probably hated him now. How could he _not_ after the way Barry had treated him tonight? Barry wouldn’t be surprised if Len never wanted to talk to him ever again. That thought hurt. It hurt because Len was one of Barry’s closest friends. And it hurt because Len was – possibly – something more too.

But no matter how much pain it caused Barry, he wouldn’t hold it against Len if the guy chose to cut him out of his life.

Barry didn’t say any of this, but it must have been clear as day on his face because Iris eventually broke their silence with: "You deserve to be happy too. You know that, right?"

"Iris..." Barry didn’t actually know what he was going to say, but she didn’t let him continue anyway.

"You don't think I know how you push people away?” she asked, shaking her head. “Come on, give me some credit here. I've known you for what feels like my whole life. You're my best friend, and I love you, but you are a goddamn fool.” Wow, talk about tough love. “I mean, you and Patty were great together, and she even found out your identity. But you got scared and pushed her away. Just like you've pushed away everyone you've ever been with. Just like you pushed me away, too."

Barry shook his head. "I didn't push you away."

"Then what do you call waiting for 12 years, waiting until I was happy and serious with Eddie, before you told me how you felt?” Iris asked, and Barry dropped his gaze to his hands, feeling guilty. “You held me away at arm’s length for our entire lives, and now that's what you're doing with Leonard Snart.”

At the drop of Len’s name, Barry felt the sudden need to take his phone out of his pocket and check for a missed call again, but he held it in this time. Len hadn’t called him. Len probably _wouldn’t_ call him, not after the way that Barry had left things. Not even if he was in desperate need of help after this bank footage had been leaked.

Barry had _really_ screwed this up.

“You're scared to be happy,” Iris continued, “scared that someone will come and take it from you the second you let your guard down, but sometimes you just have to do things that make you scared."

"I run around at night in a big red suit to take down superpowered criminals," Barry reminded her, shaking his head again. "You don't think that ever scares me?" The look that Iris was giving him now was sad and filled with pity, and Barry _hated_ it.

"Putting on a mask makes you feel safer. Taking a risk as the Flash is very different than taking one as Barry Allen," Iris said, and Barry fell silent. "And, anyway, stop changing the subject.” The tension in the room lessened at that joke, but it didn’t fade out completely. Barry couldn’t find it in himself to relax, nor did he have any words left in him. And when Barry didn’t speak, Iris leant forward in her seat, lowering her voice. “You _do_ like him, don’t you?”

"I don't know,” Barry said, summoning the energy to tell his friend the truth. “Maybe. But what if he doesn't like me?" Iris laughed at that, though the sound did nothing to ease Barry’s knotted stomach.

"He kissed you,” she reminded him. “So smart money's on he likes you."

Barry shook his head. "That doesn't prove anything. You kissed me once too!"

Iris fell silent, and it took Barry a moment to realise his mistake. Iris _had_ kissed him, but she couldn’t remember that, and Barry had never told her about it either.

"I mean... not ‘ _you_ ’ you, but you in another timeline,” he tried to explain. “Like, okay, there was this tsunami, and Joe was captured, and it's a bit complicated,” Barry continued in a rush, trying to get it out as quickly as possible that this was _not_ him trying to come onto her again. “But the details don’t really matter anymore, I guess. You chose Eddie in the end, and that's fine. I'm okay with that. But the reason I brought it up is… Well, what if it's just going to happen again with Len?"

"You think he'll choose Eddie?" Iris deadpanned, and Barry glared back at her. After a moment, she cracked into another laugh and raised her hands in self-defence before Barry could do anything stupid, like start snapping at her. "Sorry, it's just... you're acting ridiculous, Barr. The guy's clearly into you. And you like him, so why don't you just call him?"

"Call him?" Barry repeated as though the words were foreign to him, and Iris rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, you know, _instead_ of freaking out and jumping to conclusions."

"I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because… Because I don’t know how I feel!” Barry cried out, dropping his head into his hands and trying not to tear his hair out in frustration. “Everything just happened so fast, and I’m still trying to catch up,” he admitted. “How am I supposed to tell Len that?”

“You just do.” Iris’ voice was soft and understanding and completely without judgement, but Barry couldn’t pick his head back up. He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Even if it’s difficult for Snart to hear, it’s going to be a million times better than if you just blank him for the next week.”

Iris had a point. But, Barry, it seemed, was a coward.

“I just need some time,” he told her: time to breathe, to think, before he saw Len again. Iris fell silent then, finally. But Barry had the feeling that this would not be the last time she would bring it up. “Do you need anything else for your article?” he asked, lifting his gaze back up again now. Iris stared him down for a moment, her look one of sympathy, before she shook her head no and stood up. Barry walked her out of the lab and back towards the elevator, though he wouldn’t be going with her.

He thought about leaving STAR Labs for the night and going home, but Joe and Wally were there, and Barry didn’t think he could face either of them right now. Especially not Joe, not after what he and Len had been up to just half an hour ago. But, truthfully, Barry didn’t really want to stay _here_ either. He felt lost, all of a sudden, as though he didn’t fit _anywhere_. It was stupid, he knew, but he felt like he had nowhere to go.

Barry tried his best to shake off that feeling as he and Iris moved through STAR Labs towards the elevator. But it was to no avail. In fact, the closer they got to the lift, the worse Barry felt. It was like he had ants under his skin. Fire ants. He felt hot and nervous; like the second those doors opened up, all of his secrets would be exposed for the world to see.

It wasn’t nearly that dramatic in the end. When the doors did open, there as nothing. Just a big hole of… of _something_ rotting away in Barry’s chest. An emotion that Barry didn’t have the words to describe.

“Oh,” Iris said after stepping through the threshold. She bent down and picked something up off the ground, which had been kicked into the corner of the small room. It was Len’s jacket. “Looks like he left you a reminder.” Barry gave her a tight smile as she handed it over, the leather cold in his overheated hands. “Don’t leave it too late to repay the favour,” she said as she pressed a button on the console and the door closed between them.

Barry looked down at the jacket in his hand and thought about Iris’ words. She was wrong, of course. Len hadn’t left it for him on purpose; Barry had just sped him out of there too quickly for Len to grab it. But the thought that maybe Len _would_ have left it for him made Barry’s breathing begin to quicken.

He shook his head clear, slinging the jacket over his arm to take it back to the cortex with him, but stopped when something light fell out of the pocket and floated down to Barry’s feet. It was the candy wrapper from earlier, from the chocolate bar that Len had given him while they were waiting around for help. The chocolate that Len apparently only carried around for Barry… to make sure he didn’t go hypoglycaemic when they were together. Because Len cared about him, about his health and wellbeing. But it was more than that, even. Len… Len _loved_ Barry.

God, just thinking the words made Barry’s heart ache and knees weak. Was it true? Had Leonard Snart fallen in love with him without Barry ever realising?

And did Barry return those feelings?

Clearly, he was attracted to Len. Barry had been trying _so hard_ to deny that, but it was true. He _liked_ Len, liked being around him, liked talking to him, holding him, kissing him. Barry couldn’t argue any of that any longer. But how far did this go?

Christ, Barry needed a drink. Luckily, he didn’t have to go far to get one.

He zipped out of the corridor and into the cortex, slipping the leather jacket discreetly onto a nearby table before slowing down so that Cisco and Caitlin could see him. They looked guilty as they both immediately avoided eye contact, removing any shred of doubt left in Barry’s mind that they were behind the little lock-in earlier. But Barry didn’t care about that right now.

“Anyone up for that drink you were talking about?” he asked, and when they both looked back to him, they appeared thoroughly surprised. Again, Barry didn’t bring it up. He just waited.

“Err, yeah,” Cisco said, nodding. “I’m free. Caitlin?”

“Definitely.” They jumped up from their seats so quickly that Barry had the distinct impression they were rushing so that he didn’t change his mind or bring up the whole elevator situation. He wasn’t going to do either of those things, though he really didn’t mind the haste. The quicker that he could get a drink in him, the faster that he could numb his mind to all thoughts of Leonard Snart and his lips.

Hopefully, anyway. The new formula that Caitlin had whipped up was still untested, so for all Barry knew, it might not even work.

Barry hoped that it would.

There was a small gin bar not far from STAR Labs, so they headed there, Caitlin hiding the flask of super-alcohol in her purse to sneak it inside. Barry would have zipped them right there, and he nearly offered to do just that, but he started to get a phone call the second that they left the building. His heart was in his throat as he checked the caller ID, but it was only Joe.

“Hey, Barr,” his foster father greeted. “I’m just checking in. I didn’t think you’d be out late tonight.”

“I didn’t think so either,” he said. Barry should have been home _hours_ ago, and he would have been if it wasn’t for the little trick his friends played with the elevator. Barry decided not to mention that right now, though, while walking alongside both Cisco and Caitlin. He didn’t want to get into it tonight. Because if Barry thought too much about the elevator, then he would only end up thinking about what happened _inside_ the elevator too. Barry didn’t want that, not now, not tonight. “But we’re going out for a few drinks.”

“Which bar?” Joe asked, still ever the anxious father even though his kids were all grown up.

“The one near STAR Labs.”

“Gin ‘n’ Juice?”

“That’s the one,” Barry nodded as they crossed the street and the bar in question came into view. “No need to wait up for me,” he said, knowing that Joe and Wally were going to be up early tomorrow morning and heading out to Keystone for the baseball match.

“Right,” Joe said, sounding a little distant as though something else had caught his attention. “I guess I’ll retire in for the night then. Just… you two stay safe, okay.”

“Will do,” Barry agreed, not bothering with correcting Joe that it was the three of them out tonight. He hung up and pocketed the phone while the sound of the music playing inside filtered into his ears. It was a Madonna song, and a bright poster out front clearly proclaimed that tonight was ‘80s night.

The bar was beginning to get busy now that it was after ten o’clock, but the trio managed to grab a booth at the back. Barry sat there to keep their seats and look after their things while his two friends both scooted off to the bar to order some drinks of their own. Though Barry would have much rather come with them to avoid being left alone with his thoughts. That was the exact thing that this little trip had been trying to avoid!

So, instead of waiting until his friends returned, Barry took the flask out of Caitlin’s bag – only feeling a _little_ guilty about routing around through her purse since she had trapped him in an elevator for two hours – and immediately unscrewed the lid. He took his first big gulp without so much as even pausing to look inside the flask.

The alcohol burnt the back of Barry’s throat as it went down, and he nearly coughed it right back up again. It was actually painful, as though he’d just swallowed acid, and his mouth began to tingle sharply before going numb. As Barry’s head began to swim, the numbing effects of the alcohol quickly spread through the rest of his face, and Barry began to lose sensation in his nose and cheeks.

After a couple of seconds passed, the effects lost a bit of their sharpness. The room kept spinning, but now it was only when Barry moved his head. His throat felt uncomfortably hot still, too, but it was a more tempered flame now, more manageable. And a smidge of that soft tingly feeling returned to Barry’s nose and ears.

Hah. What a funny word. Smidge. Smidgen. Smidgeon. It was like a Pokémon evolution!

Barry laughed at that out loud, putting the flask down on the table – not dropping it! Though, yes, okay, he very nearly _did_ drop it, but that was beside the point – and he started rooting through Cait’s bag again, this time looking for a pen and paper. When he found what he was looking for, Barry began to draw. He figured that a Smidge would look like… like a little blob! So, that’s what he sketched: a little squiggly blob of ink. Then he drew some sunglasses on it. They weren’t _supposed_ to be sunglasses. They were supposed to be eyes, but he accidentally overlapped the lines of his circles, so he just shaded them entirely in.

“Okay,” Cisco announced loudly as he and Cait returned to the table. “Let’s get this party started!” But Barry was busy here.

“What attack do you think a Smidge should have?” he asked, very seriously, and without slurring his words even once, he might add. Yet Cisco was just staring back at him as though Barry was talking gibberish.

“Huh?” Cisco finally asked, and Caitlin laughed, sliding into her seat, and pointedly picked up the flask from the table.

“I think he started without us.”

“What? That’s no fun!” Cisco said. He might have been glaring… Barry couldn’t really tell with the way his eyes refused to focus. Plus, Cisco’s glares weren’t exactly the most sinister, to begin with. Nothing like Len’s…

And speaking of Len. “Neither is having your friends lock you in an elevator for two hours with the guy who–” Barry didn’t know how to finish that sentence. The guy who… what? Who Barry liked? _Did_ Barry like Len? Barry shook his head to clear his thoughts and, instead, he nearly toppled over in his seat. When he finally settled again, he smiled. “But we’re not talking about that.”

“Are you okay?” Caitlin asked, and Barry turned to face her as she rested her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m great!” he lied. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He began scribbling more aggressively with the pen, not looking up at his friends even after they seemed to deliberately stop talking. He got the feeling that they were whispering to each other – quite literally – behind his back, but Barry ignored that. He began to draw little arms and legs onto his squiggly little blob while trying his best to get all thoughts of Len out of his head. But Barry’s heart was racing in his chest.

He didn’t want to remember it, he didn’t want to think about how firm Len’s body had been against his own, nor the soft way Len’s fingers had brushed through the hairs at the nape of Barry’s neck. He didn’t want to think about the kiss, or the not-really love confession, or _anything_. Barry wished that he could just go back to the way things had been this time last night, back when his team’s theory about himself and Len had seemed impossible.

It had all just been so much easier back then…

Barry was tense now, any and all relaxing thoughts completely wiped from his mind as his friends continued to whisper about him behind his back. But it wasn’t just that which got the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge, Barry realised. As his head continued to clear more and more from the alcohol-induced stupor, Barry began to get the feeling that someone was staring at him. He immediately looked up and scanned the room, but the only set of eyes he found looking back were the ones that belonged to himself, reflected back at him from the mirror behind the bar.

“About that elevator thing…” Cisco said, his voice slow and cautious as it drew Barry’s attention. He refused to make eye contact with either of his friends right now, though. Instead, he returned to the ridiculous drawing he was working on. His heart was still racing in his chest; racing not only from the sensation of being watched – which he was sure must have been just in his imagination – but also from the thoughts of Len flittering around in his head. It wouldn’t calm down again, no matter how hard Barry tried to settle. And the faster his heart rate, the faster the alcohol wore off.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Barry repeated, but Cisco continued speaking anyway.

“We’re sorry,” he said, surprising Barry, who just kept staring straight down at the squiggly mess he’d made of the paper. “We had good intentions when we locked you two in there, but we overstepped.”

“We just want you to be happy,” Caitlin added. “And Leonard seems to make you happy.”

He did.

He made Barry _so_ goddamn happy.

“But we didn’t mean to take this too far,” she finished, and Barry nodded. He didn’t know what to say.

And before Barry could make up his mind on that matter, his ears picked up on the new song playing over the bar’s speakers. It was that Vanilla Ice song. Because, _of course,_ it was Vanilla Ice!

"Oh, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Barry muttered, spinning around to glare at Cisco, who immediately threw his hands up into the air in self-defence. And it just went to prove that the alcohol really was already wearing off since Barry actually saw that movement without any blurring.

“Don’t look at me,” Cisco insisted, “we didn’t request it.” Barry wasn’t so sure that he believed that. He grabbed the flask to take another drink, though he made sure to sip it this time instead of taking one large swig like before. It still burnt going down, but the results were less extreme, and he didn’t immediately feel like he was going to topple over.

The alcohol didn’t do Barry much good, though, not with _Ice Ice Baby_ playing throughout the bar. He remembered months ago, sitting inside Saints and Sinners surrounded by the Rogues for the first time and loudly proclaiming that he and Len had met in a karaoke bar after Len had sung a rendition of this exact song. Thinking back on it now, Barry wondered why Len hadn’t just kicked him out right then and there. Though, he supposed it wasn’t that difficult to come up with an answer to that question: Len hadn’t thrown him out because he’d been trying to protect Barry, even all those months ago. Even when Barry was _actively_ trying to make a joke out of him.

Len might not have been in love with Barry back then like he was now – at least, Barry _thought_ that he was now – but he’d still cared. Cared enough to put up with Barry’s pokes and jests even when it was him who was doing Barry a favour, not the other way around. He cared because he was Barry’s friend; because he had always been Barry’s friend, even when they were still doing their dance as the Flash and Captain Cold. And now…

Well, now they were perhaps _more than_ friends.

Now they were…

They were in love.

Oh, _crap_.

Barry loved him!

He loved Leonard Snart.

"God, what am I _doing_?!" Barry asked no one in particular. Because no one else could tell him what he was doing sitting in a bar and attempting to drink away his feelings when he should be with Len right now, begging for his forgiveness.

"Barry?" Caitlin asked, and Barry’s eyes snapped to her face. She and Cisco were staring at him, frowning and looking very confused.

"You guys were right," Barry admitted, though he didn’t elaborate further. He didn’t want to say those words to _them_ first when Len was the one who deserved to hear them. "I shouldn't be here.” Caitlin and Cisco’s eyes were widening now with understanding, going comically large and round. “I... I need to talk to Len."

"Go!" Caitlin urged, practically pushing him out of his seat. Barry let a bubble of laughter escape his lips, feeling – for the first time this past hour – actually, genuinely happy. And nervous. _Very_ nervous. He reached out for one more helping of liquid courage, and then he quickly left the bar and his friends behind.

The air outside was hot and stuffy, even at night with the sun long gone. It was a humid heat from a suffocatingly warm day, with the promise of rain on the horizon. Barry thought that he would enjoy that: a nice thunderstorm to send flashes of light across the room as he and Len…

Well, Barry’s thoughts right now weren’t exactly rated PG. But, before any of _that_ could happen, first Barry needed to make one hell of an apology.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialled up Len’s number, not wanting to show up at his house without an invitation after the way that Barry had just abandoned him in the STAR Labs car park.

The phone rang precisely four times before Len picked up.

“Hey,” Barry said awkwardly down the receiver, suddenly at a loss for words. Len didn’t say anything back, and Barry winced at the silence as though it were a physical attack. “Is now a bad time?” he asked, feeling more than a little fretful.

“When has that ever stopped you before?” Len drawled back, and the sound of his voice made Barry relax just a little bit. He sounded cold, distant, hurt – though he was clearly attempting to mask that last one – but at least he was talking. At least he had picked up.

“Right,” Barry laughed uneasily, letting out a breath to try to settle his nerves. “Are you home?” he asked. “I want to talk to you about tonight, about… about that kiss.” Barry’s words became nearly a whisper at the end there. Not because he was trying to keep quiet, but because the thought of what happened left Barry just so breathless that speaking any louder seemed impossible.

"Don't worry about it,” Len brushed off, and Barry winced again at the way he was trying so hard to keep his cool. “I misread the signs. It won't happen again."

"Well, never say never, you know," Barry laughed again. Len was silent, and Barry _really_ didn’t want to do this over the phone, but… "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I freaked out. I just wasn't expecting it, and I didn't know what I wanted."

"Well, when you figure it out, give me a call."

"I have! I... I am." Barry scratched at the back of his neck, his fingers brushing the hair there just like Len’s fingers had done only an hour ago. "Giving you a call, that is,” he elaborated further, leaving no room for error or misunderstandings. And then, because Len still wasn’t talking, he tacked on a nervous: “Hi.”

However, Len still didn’t speak, and Barry was beginning to worry that he had hung up without Barry realising. He pulled his phone away from his ear to check just that, but the call was still ongoing, and Barry had plenty of signal. Len was there. He was just… he was _hurt_. And Barry could understand why; _of course,_ he could. It would have hurt anyone to just be abandoned like that after laying their heart on the line. And Len wasn’t just _anyone_.

Len wasn’t as cold as he liked to let on. He was cautious. He’d been hurt before by someone who was supposed to love and care for him, so now Len kept everyone at a distance for his own sake. But he’d let Barry in, let him get close. He’d put his heart on the line, and Barry had thrown it – thrown _Len_ – aside.

Barry had crushed Len’s heart, but he was determined to put it right.

“Len, please, just…” Barry shook his head. “I want to see you.”

“I’m home,” Len said, and Barry was instantly flooded with relief. That was probably about as good as an invitation as he was going to get right now, but he would take it.

“I’ll be right there,” Barry promised, and then he hung up. He took a moment to compose himself, to breathe, to run through what he wanted to say in his head. Barry was nervous, but he was also so very, very happy. He was ecstatic, even, to the point where he literally thought he might just start dancing.

But he held that in – if only because the second that he thought about it, his head began to swim, the effects from his last swig of carefully-engineered alcohol staying with Barry a little bit longer this time. It was stronger than earlier too, and Barry felt the world swaying beneath his feet. But he was sure it would wear off before he got to Len’s.

He hoped so, anyway. He was going to need a clear head tonight if Barry was going to convince Len that he loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to miss oblivious!Barry and the sheer ludicrous situations he would find himself in, but I’m super excited for the two of them to finally talk and get somewhere in their relationship! That said, I tried to make this chapter as light-hearted and fun as I could, though we are going to be getting just a little more serious over these final chapters. The comedy will return, I promise. First, though, we have a few obstacles that our boys need to overcome.
> 
> PS. I would just like to point out that Barry’s collection of Len’s clothes now extends to his leather jacket and two of his shirts XD will Len ever get them back? Probably not. Barry’s really becoming a hoarder.
> 
> PSS. I have changed the chapter count _again_. I've know for a while that it wasn't going to be 22 chapters, but i didn't have any clue what the real count would be. I'm pretty confident now that it's going to stay at 24! That's 23 chapters plus an epilogue.


	20. Chapter 20

Len would have liked to say that he hadn't thought it through, that he hadn't thought about what he was doing in that elevator. But that would have been a lie. When Len had kissed Barry, he’d known exactly what he was doing.

He had already let so many moments between them pass by because he was too damn scared to act on it. But then Barry had told him those wonderful, amazing things. And Len had thought that, maybe, Barry loved him back. So, Len kissed him. And when Barry had kissed him in return, Len had felt as though his entire world had just exploded into new meaning and sensation.

For a moment then – ten glorious fantastical minutes – Len had Barry, wholly and unconditionally. And it was everything that Len had thought it would be.

But then the moment passed. Barry had pulled away, and he’d pulled away _hard_. He’d freaked out the second that he’d heard someone approaching them, racing Len outside and out of sight. Len might not have minded that if Barry had stuck around afterwards. But he didn't. He just left Len out in the cold – metaphorically, anyway; it was still summer, after all – reminding Len all too sharply of how ‘ _ridiculous’_ Barry considered it to be in a relationship with him.

He'd basically thrown Len out on the street, so ashamed by what they'd done, so mortified by the thought of any of his friends seeing the two of them together… That realisation struck differently than Len had been expecting. It felt like being hit in the face by a bucket of icy water.

Afterwards, Len went home, and he brooded. And nothing – not even finding out that his little team-up with the Flash last week had been broadcasted to the whole city – could pull Len out of that funk. Nothing but Barry, that is. Because when Barry’s name flashed up on that caller ID only an hour later, Len’s heart leapt up into his throat, even as his stomach plummeted to the floor.

He answered, even though he didn’t know what to say. He invited Barry over, even though it was late, and Len knew better than to make any life-altering decisions after nightfall. But the way that Barry had spoken during that call, the grief in his apology and the longing in this pleading… It had felt real.

Len knew better than to talk to Barry about this tonight, with the exhaustion of the day wearing on him still and the heat of the kiss still clinging to his lips. Len knew _better_ than that. But he did it anyway.

“I’m home,” he said into his phone, simple and direct. He heard a gush of air blown against the receiver on Barry’s end, a sigh of relief, and it made Len’s skin tingle in anticipation.

“I’ll be right there,” Barry promised, and then the call ended.

And suddenly Len didn’t know what to do with himself. Barry could – and probably _would_ – be at his door at any second, and Len looked as though he’d been wallowing in self-pity for the past hour… Which is precisely what he had been doing, but he didn’t want Barry to _know_ that.

Gingerly, Len grabbed his cane and used it to ease himself up off of the sofa. His thigh had become stiff and sore from disuse, so he tried to stretch it a bit as he moved. It responded with a sharp shooting pain all down his leg, but Len bit through the discomfort, knowing that moving about now would do him more good than harm in the long run.

As Len limped around the room, he thought about Barry. He thought about that kiss. It had taken Barry by surprise at first, Len was sure. He hadn’t really meant for that to happen. He hadn’t meant to kiss Barry without warning. But with the way that they had just so recently been playing around one another, the spark they’d shared, the way that they’d been leaning in… Len had been so sure that Barry wanted him.

So, the kiss had been unexpected, but Barry hadn’t pushed him away or frozen up. Instead, Barry had returned it with as much vigour as Len felt.

And, after the kiss broke, Len had found himself indecisive about what to do next, unsure whether he should pull away, or talk, or kiss Barry again. But all of that uncertainty went out of the window when Barry cupped Len’s face in his hands. And the look in Barry’s eyes… there had been a whole novel written behind those beautiful greens.

And when Barry kissed him… Len couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like that. It was like the exhilaration of discovering the Flash and becoming Captain Cold, the thrill of pulling off a heist that he’d been planning for months, and the satisfaction of cracking a supposedly impenetrable safe. It was all of that and more, all rolled up into one heart-pounding act.

And now Barry was on his way over here.

Len wondered if he had the time to brush his teeth, but he felt embarrassed at the thought of being caught doing that right as Barry showed up. He also worried about exerting himself going up and down the stairs in the little time that he had spare.

In the end, Len just hobbled into his kitchen and rooted through his cupboard until he found some breath mints to help himself at least feel a little fresher. After that, he moved back into the living room and perched on his sofa, waiting.

Barry could be here at any second, and Len thought about how their conversation might go. He tried not to; he’d rather just wait it out than live in some fantasy and build up his hope and expectations. But it was difficult to not dream about the things than Barry might say to him, the things that Len _wanted_ Barry to tell him.

Len wanted so badly for it to be real. And so, nervously, he waited. He waited while his hope began to dwindle and diminish. He waited as 11 o’clock came and went. And then midnight.

He waited until the early hours of the morning – until his heavy eyelids finally drooped closed, and he drifted off into oblivion.

Len waited, but Barry never showed.

[] [] []

When Barry woke up, he was tied to a chair. He attempted to orientate himself in the large room and recall what had happened after Len had invited him over. It was a struggle at first. But then Barry remembered Rosa Dillion’s saccharine laugh and Sam Scudder’s ominous ‘ _we need to talk_ ’ as they’d stepped out of the shadows and into Barry’s path. Barry remembered feeling dizzy, and not the good kind of dizzy that you got when you’d had a bit to drink. No, this was the nauseating, buildings swaying, floor moving kind of dizzy. He remembered the world twisting and spinning under his feet as the pavement came up to meet his face.

And then darkness.

After that, Barry couldn’t remember anything until he’d woken up in this chair. He looked around now at his surroundings, but he didn’t recognise the dingy windowless room he found himself in. It was probably a rundown warehouse space. An abandoned office area, perhaps? It was well-lit, and there were a few nice furnishings scattered around which looked out of place in comparison to what appeared to be desks and cupboards hidden beneath dusty tarps.

Rosa and Sam were sitting at an ornate table ahead of Barry. He gained their attention while he sat up properly in his wooden chair, and they turned to look his way.

“Hey, Sleepyhead,” Rosa greeted, almost casually. “You’ve been out for a while now; we were starting to worry.” Oh, why did Barry not believe that?

“What’s going on?” he asked; his head wasn’t spinning anymore, Rosa not feeling the need to keep her powers up now that they already had him. Though Barry wasn’t entirely as secured down as his captors thought. They didn’t know that he was the Flash, didn’t realise that he could just phase out of these binds at any time and be on his way, which was exactly what Barry was planning on doing the second that their backs were turned. But, for now, he just had to sit here while Rosa and Sam stood and moved closer to him.

“Do you need us to spell it out for you?” Sam asked. “I thought you were supposed to be smarter than that.”

Barry ignored the taunt, keeping quiet, which seemed to annoy Scudder. Perhaps they were expecting Barry to be afraid? Maybe even hoping for it? But they didn’t scare him. He did entertain the idea of playing it up for his audience, though, to avoid their suspicion. But Barry didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of that. Especially since he had been _so close_ to confessing his feelings to Len before they’d just come in and ruined it all.

Thinking about that now made Barry’s heart sink to the floor.

Len probably thought that Barry had abandoned him.

_Again_.

“You guys have the worst timing.” Or maybe it was _Barry_ who’s timing was off? It wasn’t like Sam and Rosa were the first ones to interrupt him in a crucial moment with Len. _He_ was the common denominator here. But it was a lot easier to blame the people who had just _kidnapped him_.

“You don’t seem all that scared to see us,” Rosa said, looking amused. “What? Do you think your boyfriend’s going to come save you?” _Boyfriend._ The word pulled Barry up short, not in surprise, like it would have done yesterday, but in longing. Barry _wanted_ it to be true.

“He won’t,” Sam added. He moved past Barry now, and Barry did his best to follow Sam with his eyes, not liking having Mirror Master out of his sight during a situation like this. Barry struggled to look over his shoulder, but Sam didn’t go very far. He just went to pick up a large steel baseball bat that was resting in the nearby corner of the room.

Barry didn’t like where this was heading…

“What’s your passcode?” Rosa asked, and Barry turned back around to face her as she pointedly held his phone up. Barry was momentarily taken off-guard by the question, but he quickly got back on the right track and shook his head.

“Do you really think I’d tell you that?” he asked. There was too much sensitive information – including pictures of himself in the Flash suit which, yeah, he was kind of regretting taking now – on that phone for him to just offer up his password to a couple of villains.

“I guess it depends on how much your kneecaps mean to you,” Rosa replied while Sam walked back around Barry’s chair to join his girlfriend, the baseball bat resting on his shoulder.

“A crude threat, I know,” Scudder shrugged. “And a bit of a cliché. But, hey, they’re classics for a reason. And if I’m going to de-throne Captain Cold as Central City’s resident crime lord, I guess I better start acting the part.”

“Len’s not some mob boss,” Barry argued, idly recognising that this probably wasn’t the point that he should have picked up on from that sentence.

“Then, what is he?” Sam asked. Barry didn’t have an answer for that, but Scudder wasn’t really looking for one either.

“Enough stalling,” Rosa called, striding closer and leaning down into Barry’s personal space. “Are you going to give us the passcode for your phone? Or are we going to have to take it with force?”

“I know which option I’d rather you choose,” Scudder added. Rosa was leaning so far into Barry’s space now that he could barely even see Sam standing there over her shoulder. “Getting blood stains out of silk is impossible, and this is a new shirt.” Barry wasn’t scared by the threat, he wasn’t frightened at the thought of facing down Mirror Master or the Top, he wasn’t afraid of the pain – he had a high threshold for that now, anyway. He’d broken just about every bone in his body as the Flash, so what was a couple more to add to his tally?

What _did_ scare Barry, though, was the thought of healing from it all afterwards. The notion of exposing his powers to his kidnappers, of having them figure out his secret…

There was incriminating evidence on his phone, he knew. If Sam or Rosa went searching, they’d probably figure out that he was the Flash anyway. But that was _if_ they went looking. It was a maybe, not a definite. Comparatively, the risk was pretty low when put against how it would look if Sam took a bat to Barry’s legs today and then found out he was up and walking around again tomorrow.

“091490,” Barry sighed, accepting that his options here were limited. Rosa grinned and stood up straight, turning to walk away.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she asked while tapping away at his phone.

Barry remained silent and waited. He hoped that he’d made the right call, but only time would tell.

Thankfully, Rosa wasn’t on Barry’s phone for long. And once she was finished, she just dropped it back down onto the table.

“The cavalry’s been called off,” she announced and then faced Barry as she directed her next words solely at him. “No one’s looking for you, Little Piggy, so you might as well get comfortable.”

“That would be easier without my hands tied behind my back,” Barry muttered, earning an actual laugh from his captors – not that Barry would take that as a good sign; neither Rosa nor Sam were the kind of people to show mercy just because you made them crack a smile.

“Nice try,” Sam said, placing the bat down on the table where it rolled only slightly before settling on the wood. For a second, Barry thought that they were going to leave the room, and he did his best to look downtrodden and not at all excited at the prospect of being left alone. But, unfortunately, his escape would have to wait just a little longer because – although Rosa did, in fact, depart through the door behind Barry’s chair – Scudder just retook his seat at the table. “Don’t worry,” he said to Barry, not at all kindly. “We won’t keep you here much longer.”

That, of course, only made Barry worry _more_.

Whatever they had planned for Len, it was clear that they didn’t intend on dragging it out. They weren’t going to give Len or his Rogues time to organise. It was the smart call, but that was what worried Barry. Sam Scudder and Rosa Dillion weren’t idiots. They knew that Len wasn’t any less competent just because he was injured; if they gave Len time to prepare, they would lose. So, they were striking right away.

That discovery would have been concerning any day, but tonight it only felt worse. Because Barry knew that Len probably wasn’t in his right mind at the moment.

And that was all Barry’s fault.

He hadn’t intended to, but he’d messed with Len’s heart tonight. First, by running away after their kiss. And then when he’d tried to put that issue – and Len – to bed, he’d been kidnapped, which had left Len hanging for God only knew how long. There were no windows in this room, nor any clocks; no way for Barry to know how long it had been since he’d phoned Len and promised to ‘ _be right there_ ’. Though he imagined it had been hours already. And with how Barry had left their last encounter, Len probably just thought he’d been stood up. So, the ‘ _cavalry’_ , as Rosa had put it earlier, hadn’t needed calling off. It was never on its way, to begin with. And Barry had only himself to blame for that.

With every second that passed, Len was probably building that wall up between them taller and taller, and Barry deserved it. But he just hoped that he had the strength to tear those bricks back down again.

And he hoped that it wouldn’t be too little too late.

[] [] []

Something was wrong.

At first, when Len had woken up this morning on the sofa with no sign of Barry except the measly ‘ ** _Sorry, I was called into a crime scene. Raincheck on tonight?_** ’ text sitting in his phone, Len had been broken. To think that, after everything, Barry had just ditched him again was more than a little distressing. Len didn’t know what to do, or think, or say. He just sat there on the couch, staring at the message until his phone screen went black.

After that, well, he got _angry_. Len didn’t appreciate being messed around like this. Getting freaked out and running away after their kiss was one thing – it was acting on impulse and completely spur of the moment – but _this_ was different. This was actively seeking Len out, getting his hopes up, and then just watching them crash and burn to the ground again. This was almost _intentional_.

But that wasn’t like Barry.

Barry wasn’t cruel or hurtful. He didn’t make moves that he purposefully knew would hurt someone. Barry was kind, and open, and honest. To reach out to Len and then just disappear right after? Barry didn’t pull stunts like that. He cared for Len; he did. Whether it was as just friends or as something more… Len couldn’t say. But he did know, without a doubt, that Barry cared about him. And the more Len thought about it, the more concerned he became.

Something was _wrong_.

Len tried to call Barry then. The phone rang and rang, but it eventually just went to voicemail, and that didn’t sit well in Len’s stomach. By now, every bone in his body was screaming at him to find Barry and make sure he was okay.

Well, nearly, anyway. There was, of course, that one little niggling thought at the back of Len’s mind, the voice of doubt that told him that perhaps Barry _was_ just avoiding him. That maybe he just didn’t feel the same way that Len did, that perhaps he’d bit off more than he could chew and didn’t know how to break things off when they weren’t even technically together in the first place.

Len wasn’t used to doubting himself like this. But, then again, he also wasn’t used to having so much riding on someone else’s feelings either.

Len hadn’t let himself be this open and raw with anyone since… well, Len didn’t even know how long it had been. He’d always accepted that love was nothing like how it was portrayed in those books that Mick read. Love wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. It was complicated and messy, and Len hadn’t wanted any part of it. Even now, sometimes Len cursed himself for ever developing feelings for the Flash.

But he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Not even if Barry didn’t feel the same way. Not even if there was nothing but heartbreak ahead of them.

Falling in love with Barry Allen was one of the worst things that had ever happened to Len, but it was also one of the best. So regardless of the self-doubt, and the heartache, and the fear, Len wouldn’t change a damn thing.

He was unconditionally devoted to Barry. And that irritating voice of doubt in his head wasn’t going to stop him from making sure that the man he loved was safe. Len was going to find him. And if it did turn out than Barry really was just ignoring him… Well, then Len’d give the kid hell for making him worry so damn much.

But Len wasn’t going to think too hard about that part right now.

Instead, he eased himself up the stairs – one careful step at a time – showered, dressed in some waterproofs to combat the light summer downpour outside, and left on his motorbike. His first stop was West’s house. Barry had told him that the detective and his son were heading out early today to catch a coach to Keystone and, if the lack of a cruiser parked in the driveway was anything to go by, it seemed that the pair had already left. Len was thankful for that. He didn’t feel all too keen on getting caught snooping around by Joe West. Even if the guy was surprisingly accepting of Len being in Barry’s life more, he probably wouldn’t be all that happy to come across Captain Cold in his living room.

With that thought in mind, Len carefully made his way up the porch steps to the front door. He picked the lock and was in the house within seconds, swiftly closing the door behind him to keep off the radar of any nosy neighbours. The house was silent inside. There was no sound of movement, just the soft thrum of nearby traffic and the gentle patter of rain against the windows.

Moving unsteadily through the living room now, Len glanced to the fireplace which Barry had thrown him up against the only other time that he’d been inside this house. It had been at Christmas, and Len had snuck in after breaking out of Iron Heights. He’d been worried for Barry’s safety back then too. Not necessarily because of Mark Mardon and James Jesse – Len had known that those two wouldn’t be a match for the Flash – but because of those stories that he’d heard while locked up. Those stories of the mysterious speedster in black who had beaten the Flash within an inch of his life. It was all that the other inmates could talk about. So, the first thing Len had done when he got out, before he’d even made contact with Mick or Lisa, was check up on the kid.

Len had always got a kick out of ruffling Barry’s feathers. And that night, despite the real reason behind his visit, had been no different. Barry usually enjoyed their back and forth, too, though he had been considerably more uptight that night than ever before. That probably had something to do with Iris West’s presence in the room; she’d been an unfortunate addition to their conversation, which Len had not been expecting. But Barry had soon loosened up anyway. Len smiled at the memory and the realisation of how far they had come in only seven months.

And yet, in other ways, it seemed like they were just going around and around in circles. Because here Len was once again creeping through the very same house in hopes of finding Barry Allen unharmed and well.

Though perhaps ‘ _creeping_ ’ was the wrong term this time around. Because, as Len gingerly made his way up the stairs towards Barry’s bedroom, he couldn’t help the way the floorboards creaked loudly and unwelcomed under his feet. The addition of his cane did nothing to make the task of sneaking around any easier. Luckily, Len didn’t need to tread softly during this particular break-in.

It took him a few moments to make it up the stairs, but then he headed directly to the room that Len knew belonged to Barry. Admittedly, he had only given it a sparing glance the first time he was here, just enough to confirm that Barry wasn’t home. However, this time, after finding Barry’s bed empty, Len took a little longer to appraise the room. His eyes instantly fell on a folded stack of clothes atop Barry’s dresser, a pile consisting of two black shirts. Len’s shirts. The sight of them made a smile tug on his lips, but it quickly faded when he saw the CCPD lanyard resting beside them. The police precinct was a secure building with limited access inside without a key card. So if Barry’s was still here, then he definitely _wasn’t_ at work like the text claimed. Len mentally crossed the precinct off of his list of buildings to check. Or, at least, he moved it down a few spaces.

Len continued to glance around the rooms as he limped through the West house, but he was already confident that there was nothing else to find here. So, he turned back around, locked up the front door, and headed for STAR Labs instead.

It was barely even 7 am when Len parked up in front of the entrance, in the exact same spot he had vacated less than ten hours earlier. Len refused to think about that, though, as he broke into the building to take a look around.

STAR Labs was large enough that Len knew he wouldn’t be able to search the whole place. Especially not with his bum leg, which was already sore and aching this morning after his short visit to the West house. So, Len mentally listed all the rooms in the lab and picked a couple of the more-likely options to check out. The first room, of course, was the cortex.

Len was a little reluctant to get back into the elevator after so recently being stranded in the thing, but he was all too aware of how difficult it would be to tackle the stairs in his current condition. So, he took the lift anyway – without so much as a hitch – before continuing his long trek through the corridors. He was only slightly annoyed by the fact that Team Flash would choose to put their centre of operations so far away from the building’s entrance…

By the time that Len made it to the cortex, he was out of breath and rapidly becoming physically exhausted. He had to take a moment to lean against the desk and just _breathe_ , waiting until his heart rate began to return to a more reasonable pace. Thankfully, no one else was here this early on a Sunday morning to see the state that he was in. Len wasn’t exactly surprised by that, but it did nothing to help his worry; the list of places to search for Barry was becoming increasingly shorter, and Len’s realisation on that wasn’t a happy one.

After a few moments passed and Len’s breathing had become less laboured, he prepared himself to stand up fully again and continue his search of the building.

However, that train of action was quickly interrupted by the sudden appearance of a bright blue light in the room ahead of him. It was floating at shoulder height in an orb-like shape the size of a fist, but it soon began to rapidly double in size until it was over six feet tall. Len’s cold gun was charged and aimed at the shimmering blue hole in reality before he even knew what to make of it. And then two men stepped through. Or, should he say, _three_ men? Because in through the blue void walked the superheroes known as Vibe and Firestorm.

Len powered down his gun as he realised what was going on. He had heard about Cisco’s portals, even seen one on TV once, but he’d never experienced it in person until right now.

“What–?” Cisco muttered, shaking his head and pulling the visor from his head, clearly annoyed. Beside him, Firestorm’s shoulders deflated, the fight that they had geared up for gone. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for Barry,” Len admitted, not letting any of his locked-up emotions drip out into his voice. “You?”

Firestorm sighed and, before Len’s eyes, divided into the separate counterparts who made up the hero. That was _also_ something which Len had never seen in person. So, if nothing else, this morning had been very educational. After the split, Martin Stein showed to be wearing what looked to be his pyjamas, but it was Ronnie Raymond – still wearing the super-suit – who stepped forward.

“Cisco got an alert about the break–”

“–Wait, wait,” the engineer in question interrupted, throwing his hands up in the universal ‘time out’ sign. “Rewind. What do you mean you’re ‘ _looking for Barry_ ’?” he asked, not shy on his use of air quotes. Len actually felt a little uneasy under his scrutiny. He noted that Cisco Ramon was much more formidable when you interrupted his weekend lie-in. Or maybe Len’s current discomfort had less to do with Cisco’s early morning bravery and more to do with his uncertainty of how to answer that question.

Because how could Len explain his gut feeling about Barry without explaining… everything else?

“I thought he was with you,” Cisco pushed on, surprising Len now as he realised that they already _knew_. Barry had already told them. Perhaps not _everything_ , but at the very least enough that his team were expecting Len and Barry to still be together this early in the morning.

That realisation was interesting, to say the least. But Len didn’t have the time to dwell on it now.

“Barry never showed,” he admitted, feeling the words burn hot against the back of his throat. This time, he wasn’t quite so able to keep the raw emotion out of his voice. Thankfully, no one pointed that out.

“Showed for what?” Stein asked, and both Ronnie and Cisco quickly avoided the professor’s gaze. So perhaps not _everyone_ was filled in, after all. But it was still remarkably more of Barry’s friends than Len had been expecting. “Ah,” Stein uttered, putting together the pieces of the puzzle and coming up with the only answer that he could. He seemed to have questions, but he must have realised that now was not the time for them. “Well, I’m sure that Mr Allen has a perfectly reasonable explanation for… uh…”

“Standing me up?” Len offered when Stein seemed unable to finish his sentence. His voice was a little sharper than he’d intended, though, and the older man visibly winced at the bite there.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Cisco said, shaking his head again. His confusion and unacceptance on the matter made Len feel just a tad better about what Barry’s intentions for last night had been. But that only served to make the pit of worry in his stomach grow heavier. “Have you spoken to him?”

Len didn’t really want to answer that question, didn’t want to spill the details here. But his worry over Barry far surpassed his discomfort at being open with Barry’s friends. So, he told them the truth about the text and the unanswered call. Afterwards, Cisco began to nod, though he did not look happy.

“I tried to call Barry too,” he explained, “after I got the alert about your break-in. But he didn’t pick up.”

“Cait said she would keep trying,” Ronnie added in.

“But given the fact that Barry still isn’t here…” Cisco continued, pulling a face. “I’m guessing she hasn’t been able to get through to him either.”

“Are you suggesting that Mr Allen is in danger?” Stein asked, and the words hit Len like lead in his stomach. He didn’t want them to be true. As much as the thought that Barry had ditched him again hurt, Len would rather that be true than _this_.

For a moment, no one spoke.

The severity of the situation began to settle on the room, and Len found it suddenly difficult to keep his breathing calm. His eyes found the clock on the wall, which read 7:15 am: nearly eight hours since Len’s phone call with Barry had ended. If something _had_ happened to him, if someone had taken him, if he was hurt…

Who knew what kind of state Barry was in right now?

Who knew if he was even _alive_?!

[] [] []

“Have you got a cushion?” Barry asked as he shifted on his seat; the hard wood was really beginning to get unpleasant. However, Sam didn’t even look up from his magazine or acknowledge Barry in any way, and Rosa still wasn’t back from wherever she’d headed off to.

Barry sighed; he was getting hungry too. Well, he was _always_ hungry, but now especially so. It had to have been at least two hours since he’d woken up in this chair, and who knew how long since he’d been knocked unconscious. He wasn’t using much energy, though, being tied up like he was. Which was good – it meant that he might just have enough strength to get out of these bonds when the time came – but if Barry didn’t keep an eye on it, he might end up going hypoglycaemic before he ever got that chance.

Unfortunately, Sam had _also_ ignored his request for food.

Barry shifted around in his seat again, trying to get comfier, though he knew by now that that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t just the hard seat that was becoming increasingly intolerable, but the way he was tied to it as well. His hands were still bound tightly behind his back, and they had definitely gone to sleep as Barry had lost all sensation in them. It was a little worrying, in fact, as Barry had no idea if he’d even be able to vibrate his hands out of these ties now that his arms had gone dead.

Barry continued to transfer his weight around from one leg to the other in his seat. At one point, his movements became so excessive that he accidentally made the chair move underneath him, the wooden legs scraping loudly against the hard floor beneath him. At that, Sam finally lifted his gaze to glare Barry’s way, a warning clear in his eyes.

“Sorry?” Barry offered up weakly. Sam continued to glare. “You know, if you untied my hands, I might not make so much noise.” It was a futile attempt, Barry knew, and Scudder wasn’t impressed.

“I’ve had enough of your jabbering,” Sam muttered as he picked a small towel up from the table and rose from his seat, stalking forward. Barry tried to squirm away, but there wasn’t too far that he could go, so Scudder was quickly able to force the towel between Barry’s teeth before tying it off at the back of his head as a makeshift gag.

Barry just hoped that they’d remembered to wash it first…

Afterwards, Sam tapped him mockingly on the cheek and opened his mouth to speak. But whatever threat had been on the tip of his tongue was soon interrupted by the distinct sound of footsteps and nondescript chatter coming from another room, getting closer. Sam stood up straight and stepped a foot back from Barry, though he didn’t seem concerned by the noise, which meant that it was probably Rosa returning. And she had bought friends. Great. More people there to keep an eye on Barry was _just_ what he needed…

Barry sighed through the gag; he was beginning to think that he’d never get out of this chair.

“Honey, I’m home,” Rosa called as the door behind Barry slammed open. He twisted in his seat, throwing his head over his shoulder to get a look at the newcomers as they entered. But Barry was not expecting to see the faces that he found staring back at him with wide eyes from the doorway.

“What the hell, Rosa?” Shawna demanded, taking a half-aborted step closer to where Barry was tied up at the edge of the room. “What is this?”

“Barry Allen, CSI,” Rosa casually listed off, shrugging as she walked around Barry to stand beside Sam. “You know, Snart’s little boy toy.” Okay, _that_ was offensive. Barry would have complained if not for the gag in his mouth. He still tried, though, but his words just came out muffled and inaudible, which made Sam laugh harshly.

“She meant what is he doing here,” Mark said. He looked just as concerned about this as Shawna did, which made Barry feel just a little relieved. Clearly, neither of them were in on this plan to take down Len. Or, Barry didn’t _think_ they were in on it until Mark continued with: “We’re going against Cold, not _him_.” And then Barry’s heart plummeted to the floor.

His dejection must have shown on his face because Shawna was quickly avoiding his gaze.

“Is there a difference?” Sam asked. “If we’re going to take down Leonard Snart, we need to go after the people he loves.”

“Barry’s not a part of this,” Shawna continued to argue, not that it was doing any good.

“Oh yeah?” Sam laughed. “Well, I’d like to see either of you two bring in Mick or Lisa.”

“Is there an issue here?” Rosa demanded; she didn’t look happy at the direction the conversation was heading in, and it showed as she angrily crossed her arms in front of her chest. Despite her pause for an answer, neither Mark nor Shawna spoke. “Are you in, or are you out?”

The two of them shared a glance, deep in silent conversation for several seconds as the tension in the room became thicker and palpable. Finally, Shawna shook her head.

“We’re still in,” Mark said for the both of them, and whatever lingering hope Barry might have felt vanished for good.

Idly, he remembered the conversation he’d shared with Len in the elevator last night… the discussion about their separate teams and how they worked. Barry didn’t like to admit it, but it seemed as though Len had been right all along.

The Rogues weren’t like Team Flash; they weren’t good people. They were criminals, they were villains…

And above all of that, they were definitely _not_ Barry’s friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, you guys probably really hate me right now. I kinda hate myself too. I _really_ wanted to just throw this particular side plot in the bin and let our boys be happy :(  
> Soon, though, I promise. Soon they will finally get to talk! And the fun will return.
> 
> PS. I get that this was a pretty intense plot-heavy chapter, so I was trying very hard to lighten the mood and make it a tad more comical without being too overt about it. Idk if that really worked though :/
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter (even if your thoughts consist entirely of you just cursing me out - don't be shy, I'll probably join in).


	21. Chapter 21

Barry wondered what Len was doing right this minute.

What was he thinking about?

Did he hate Barry now? Did he think that maybe Barry just wasn’t worth his time?

Or did Len already know that something was wrong? While Barry had been trapped here, he’d seen his phone on the table light up a couple of times, but Scudder had mostly ignored it. Barry was far enough away that he hadn’t been able to tell why his phone had gone off in the first place; was it a call? A text? A random app notification? The phone was muted, and Scudder didn’t answer any questions, so Barry didn’t know.

It was maybe too much to ask for it to have been Len.

Len probably had no idea what was going on.

Scudder had seemed to turn Barry’s phone off after a little while, but he hadn’t appeared troubled in any way. Though worried or not, Barry was surprised that his captors had even kept the phone in the first place. They had to know that Len would be able to track it if he needed to… It would lead him right to them.

Or, it would if Len were looking.

Which he probably wasn’t.

Barry wondered, again, what was going through Len’s head right now. He wished he knew, wished he could be there to apologise and beg for forgiveness.

For a moment, Barry thought about what would have happened if Rosa and Sam hadn’t been lurking outside the bar last night. What would have happened if Barry had made it to Len’s house? Would they be together right now enjoying a lazy Sunday morning?

Barry liked to think that they would, that he’d be lying in Len’s bed right now, naked, and sated, and in awe.

Instead, he was just tied to a chair, pining from afar.

He didn’t so much mind the ‘ _tied up_ ’ part, wouldn’t have minded if Len had also wanted to chain him up this morning. In fact, he would have enjoyed it. But, in Barry’s fantasy, the restraints that Len used were softer, perhaps not in the material itself but in the way that Len used it.

Barry imagined the smooth caress of Len’s hands around his wrists and the delicate kisses that he would lay there.

Len would be a bastard about it, Barry was sure. He’d really push Barry’s buttons and tease him so much that the frustration and desperation brought Barry almost to the brink of physical anguish. But he’d be loving, too. With every touch, he would show Barry exactly how he felt.

Barry wished, more than anything, that he could be there with Len now.

It wasn’t a new feeling he had, this longing. Barry hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Len for _months_ , but he’d been so in-denial about what that meant. Barry had a complicated history when it came to the people that he loved. Whether it was romantic or platonic, it didn’t matter. Loving _anyone_ had only ever led to Barry putting them in danger. It didn’t matter who it was: his parents, his friends, his family, Iris… their lives were all made infinitely more complicated because Barry was in them. Because he loved them.

He didn’t want to be that same burden on Len. To pretend that their relationship was purely platonic was an unconscious way to protect Barry’s heart from the heavy truth… and protect Len in return. But Barry could no longer hide behind that lie; the glass foundations he’d built it on had fractured and fallen to pieces at his feet.

And now…

Now Barry knew the reason why he couldn’t stop thinking about Len. The reason why the mere sight of Len made him smile, why their touches felt like electricity, why Barry’s heart raced whenever they were together. He was utterly and unrepentantly in love with Leonard Snart.

Barry just wished he could tell him.

His heart ached with how much Barry wanted to find Len and tell him the truth, and sitting here tied to a chair with a makeshift-gag in his mouth to keep him quiet was _not_ helping. Barry couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for any longer. Which was why right after Rosa had returned with Shawna and Mark – the _traitors_ – Barry started making noise. He started speaking (well… more like half-shouting actually) under his gag, a low but constant muffled sound to get their attention.

They put up with it for a few seconds, trying to just talk over Barry. But Shawna and Mark kept looking over to him anxiously, not being able to stay on track with what Rosa and Scudder were telling them. Eventually, Rosa threw her hands up in the air and stormed over to Barry, yanking the towel from his gob.

“Oh my god, _what_?” she demanded. In hindsight, Barry thought that annoying his captors this much probably wasn’t the safest idea. But, if things went to plan, then it wouldn’t matter; he would be out of here in no-time.

“I need to pee,” he told her, and Rosa stood back up straight, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“No one’s stopping you.”

Barry almost thought that she was serious, but after a few seconds passed, she just sighed.

“I’ll take him,” Mark volunteered, but Sam shook his head and stepped forward.

“I’ll do it,” he said. “You need to get caught up on the plan.” That made Barry feel like wincing, knowing that he should have kept his mouth shut for a little longer so that he could overhear everything and pass on their plan once he got out of there. Though maybe they wouldn’t have said anything in front of him anyway. Perhaps they were always going to wait until he was out of earshot? So far, Barry had learnt nothing about what they were up to. So, expecting them to just spill their secrets in front of him now was probably a bit too much to ask from a group of highly-trained thieves.

Sam untied his wrists, and Barry felt the blood rush back into his hands, the numbness quickly ebbing away at his fingertips and all the way up both arms. Barry gritted his teeth in anticipation long before the pins and needles kicked in. Thankfully, his super-healing did fast work getting rid of that because it was one hell of a bout.

Barry still winced, though, as Sam finished untying his feet and pulled him up off of the seat. His first few steps were unsteady, not at all being helped by the little shoves Sam gave him to get him to move faster. Now out of the room and walking through the building, Barry was able to confirm his suspicion that he was, in fact, in an old warehouse of some kind. There were windows in rooms they were passing through, and so Barry was able to see that it was daylight now. It was probably early morning, but the dark clouds in the sky weren’t giving Barry much more information than that; he still had no clue how long he had been missing for.

He thought about making his escape here and now, but Scudder was holding a gun in his hand, loaded and ready to fire if Barry so much as looked like he was going to bolt… which was the exact warning that Sam had given him after they’d left that room. Barry thought about making a run for it anyway. He was fast enough to get the gun out of Scudder’s hand before Sam even knew what was happening.

But could he do it without highlighting his tactical advantage? That, Barry wasn’t so sure about.

So, he waited.

Scudder left Barry alone in the restroom to do his business, choosing to wait for him just outside the door. So, before Barry had even glanced inside the room, he was already confident that there was no way out. Of course, he was right: the windows didn’t open in here, and they were lined with thick lead bars. So, even if Barry broke the glass, there wasn’t anywhere near enough room for him to fit through and run away. Barry didn’t actually _need_ a functioning window to make an escape, of course. Still, he knew that phasing out of the building from this room would have left far too many unanswerable questions. And he couldn’t reveal himself as the Flash right now; he _wouldn’t_.

Instead, Barry just stared out onto the scenery beyond, watching the pattern that the rain left as it splattered against the window. After a moment, he went back to his captor. Sam was waiting smugly outside the door as though he’d known what Barry’s intentions had been. He probably did.

Barry sighed and attempted to walk back the way they’d come. However, Scudder stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He pulled out another length of rope from his coat pocket and tied Barry’s hands back up – in front of his body this time, instead of behind his back like they had been when he was tied to the chair – Barry frowned and asked what was going on, though he didn’t expect a response. Scudder surprised him by answering anyway.

“We’re moving.”

“Moving where?” Barry asked, but he wasn’t privy to that information apparently because Scudder went quiet. Once again, Barry considered making a run for it – now that Scudder’s gun was away – but Barry chose not to make his move yet. It was better to just wait until they slipped up and left him alone rather than hurrying to break free. If he made a move too soon and messed up, they might not be so lenient around him again.

So, Barry waited.

Scudder finished binding Barry’s wrists together pretty quickly. However, Barry noticed that it maybe wasn’t quite as tight as it had been before. Perhaps his plan to appear a docile captive was already working?

Or maybe Sam just wasn’t as good at tying knots as Rosa was?

Who knew?

Hands bound, Barry began walking back down the hallway from where they had come, the only place to go since the other side of the corridor was just a dead end. The passageway widened here with enough room for a table and chairs, though they were all dusty and looked to be termite infested. Otherwise, there wasn’t really much else to see, other than the large mirror resting against a wall. Barry walked past that, heading towards the door.

“Stop,” Scudder commanded, his hand gripping painfully tight into Barry’s shoulder and making him wince. “We’re not going that way. Rosa’s left a few gifts past that door, and you’re not going to want to trip them.” Barry froze, his heart in his throat.

“What happens if I do?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. Scudder laughed, the sound harsh and bitter.

“Fireworks.” With his hand on Barry’s shoulder, Scudder forced him away from the door and towards the mirror instead. “Courtesy of the Tricksters.”

“They’re in on this too?” Barry asked, disheartened. He didn’t know why he was surprised anymore. Len had _told_ him that the Rogues would bite at the first sign of weakness, and that’s what they were doing. Barry wondered if there were _any_ of the Rogues left on Len’s side at all…

However, Scudder scoffed as he touched the mirror, making their reflection shift like ripples on a pond.

“You’re kidding, right? I’m not working with those lunatics,” Sam said. “Too risky. They just think we’re doing a test-run on our next job.” And, with that, Sam gave Barry a shove into the mirror. _Literally_ into the mirror. He fell back through the other side, ass-first into a muddy puddle.

He was outside now, in front of what was probably the same building. There was another mirror leaning up against the brick wall next to Barry’s feet, a mirror which Scudder was casually stepping through now. The sharp sound of laugher erupted behind Barry. He followed it with his head until he found Rosa Dillion sitting in the driver’s seat of an old green van. Barry couldn’t see anyone else around. Though given Sam’s warning about the warehouse being rigged to blow, Barry doubted Mark and Shawna were still in there, so the two of them were probably in the back of the van waiting.

Scudder was laughing now, too, as though Rosa’s mirth had brought it out of him. Typically, Barry would have found that kind of thing sweet. But when the joke was at his own expense, he didn’t feel so warm-hearted. He didn’t have any affection to spare for his kidnappers.

Though, as Barry lay there in the mud while the light rain continued to patter against his exposed skin, he realised that this was more than just a kidnapping now. This was a trap.

The phone…

Barry had wondered why they’d kept it, but now it was making sense. They _wanted_ Len to trace his location. They wanted him to find this warehouse.

Len was smart. He was more intelligent than Sam, and Rosa, Shawna, and Mark all put together… right? He’d figure that out.

But what if he didn’t?

Len was smart, but that didn’t always matter. Barry had seen with his own eyes the extremes that he was willing to go to, the danger he would launch himself into, to defend the people he cared about. The people he loved. Len had done it with Lisa, putting himself in Lewis’ path to protect her. And he’d done it with Barry too, at the bank.

Barry had watched that leaked CCTV footage just last night. He’d replayed it over and over again afterwards under the guise of refreshing his memory for Iris’ interview, so that footage was still so fresh in Barry’s mind… Len had flung himself into danger for Barry: he’d made himself a target when he’d thought that Victor Fries was going to attack the Flash while his back was turned. Len had launched his own attack and drawn Fries’ fire instead of risking Barry’s safety. It had been a stupid move, Barry knew. And if Len had taken a second to think it over, he would have known that too.

But Len _didn’t_ think when the people he loved were on the line.

Len hadn’t thought it through at the bank, and he might not think it through now, either.

And so, Barry finally made his move, right here and now. With Scudder and Rosa distracted and the others out of sight.

Barry kicked out with his feet at the back of Scudder’s legs.

Sam was caught by surprise and fell over onto his ass, the gun slipping from his fingers and skidding away in the mud. Barry pushed himself up onto his knees. He brought his bound hands down against the back of Mirror Master’s neck before the villain even knew what was happening.

“Sam!” Rosa shouted when Scudder collapsed face-first into the mud.

Barry dove forward, scrambling to grab the dropped gun. Scudder, down but not out, rolled over and landed a sharp blow against Barry’s ribs. And then another with his knee. But Barry pushed forward still.

There was a commotion around them as Barry’s captors clambered out of the van to face him, and Barry knew he only had seconds left. He struggled on the floor for the gun, racing against Scudder, both desperate to reach it first.

Barry was inches away from wrapping his fingers around the mud-clogged metal when he was knocked off-balance by one of Scudder’s shoves. His hands were still bound together, and Barry had to use them both to catch his fall.

He kicked out again as Scudder scurried closer to the firearm. Barry put just enough speed behind the attack to give it some real power, but not enough that the movement would look blurred to anyone coming to Sam’s aid.

Scudder fell to the floor, and Barry jumped forward, finally wrapping his hands around the cold metal grip.

And then the world seemed to churn and spit him out.

Barry lifted the gun and tried to aim it, but his vision was all but useless.

He was on his knees in the mud, trying to stand up, but the world swayed and shook under his feet. Barry tried to keep stable even as his double vision intensified, nausea rising as bile in the back of his throat.

Barry went down.

The next thing he knew was a solid impact against his jaw and pain shooting through the left side of his face.

When the world stopped twisting, Barry realised that he was lying in the dirt again, this time on his right side rather than his back. Scudder, drenched head to toe in mud – even more so than Barry was – looked furious. He was holding the gun now, the barrel pressed flat against Barry’s skull.

Rosa was standing behind Sam’s left shoulder, looking just as pissed off, and Barry had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he’d just signed his own death warrant. If Scudder were to pull the trigger on that gun, with it pressed against Barry’s head like it was, there might be no escaping it. Barry could try, _would_ try, but building up enough speed that quickly was going to be difficult.

Perhaps he could get away with the bullet only grazing his head? If he played dead, maybe none of his captors would look closely enough to see he was still alive? That was unlikely, though. Barry got the feeling they wouldn’t just leave his body out here for anyone to find, not if they were trying to trap Len inside the building…

He could run now. Run and not look back. They’d see that he was the Flash, but it might just save his life. He might save _Len’s_ life.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mark said before Barry had made up his mind about what to do next. Mark and Shawna were standing over Scudder’s other shoulder, tense and – until this second – still. Barry hadn’t been paying them much attention, but now Mark was walking forward, closer and closer. “Barry’s learnt his lesson; you don’t need to shoot him.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Rosa snarled, and Sam didn’t seem all too convinced either. Not until Shawna spoke up.

“We might still need him.”

The air was tight and silent, but for the rain and wind blowing between them. It whipped furiously against Barry’s sodden and soiled clothes, sending a shiver through his bones. Seconds ticked on by, and Barry feared the worst until, finally, Sam lifted the gun away from Barry’s face.

“You’re not off the hook for this,” he warned, pulling himself up to his feet and wiping the mud from around his eyes. It only served to smear against his skin like war paint. “Try anything like that again, and you’ll find yourself back inside that warehouse praying that no one shows their face.”

Barry actually thought that was a better option than being stuck beside the Rogues. He’d be able to phase out of there and stop Len from setting anything off! But then Scudder kept on talking…

"And don't go thinking that the Flash will come running in to save you and Snart, and everything will be just swell. It won't.” He sounded pretty certain about that. “We picked up a few power dampeners, you see. Dotted them around with the bombs. If the Flash _does_ show up, he'll be blown to smithereens just like your boyfriend."

Oh.

Oh, that was not good.

Where the hell had the Rogues found _power dampeners_?!

“Where the hell did you get those?” Shawna asked, taking the words directly out of Barry’s mouth. He might have found that funny if not for the whole, you know, aiding and abetting his kidnapping thing. Sam shrugged as he grabbed Barry by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him to his feet.

“There was a shipment on Friday night heading to Star City. So, we took a couple,” Rosa answered, sounding pretty proud of herself. Barry wondered if that had been the ‘urgent’ business they’d needed to run past Len at the last meeting? But Len hadn’t heard them out, which meant he probably had no idea what they’d got their hands on. “Mercury Labs was keeping the whole thing very hush-hush, but we had what you might call a guy on the inside.”

Sam and Rosa both laughed at that as they hauled Barry towards the van. He tripped and stumbled on the way over, but they just flung him inside the back and motioned for Mark and Shawna to join.

“I’d rather not get mud on this outfit,” Shawna muttered, warily appraising Barry’s current mud-logged state. After a second, she turned to Sam – who was even worse off than Barry was – with an almost-shy smile. “No offence.”

Sam looked as though he very much _did_ take offence, and Barry vaguely remembered a comment he’d made a few hours ago about his new shirt. Barry had to bite back a vindictive smile on that one, even as his heart still raced erratically with worry about Len and his friends.

“Give me the address. I’ll pick up some breakfast and meet you there,” Shawna said. Then she made eye contact with Barry for the first time since she’d shown up. She gave him an apologetic smile, but it just made Barry _angry_. “I’ll pick you up some pancakes and a coffee.”

Barry wished he could turn her down, not wanting to accept any help from the people who were so ready to turn on him. But… beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Barry was all too aware of how long it had been since he’d eaten anything at all. He needed to eat again soon or risk passing out. Plus, if he wanted to be able to help Len and save his life, he’d need his energy. So, Barry nodded.

“Why bother?” Rosa mocked. “I know he’s skinny, but missing one meal is hardly going to kill him.”

“So, you don’t want Big Belly pancakes?” Shawna asked, and Rosa frowned for a moment before sighing.

“I’d rather have their waffles,” she said, and Sam asked for the same. Shawna nodded. She shared another look with Mark before kissing him on the cheek and blipping away out of sight.

Finally, Mark climbed into the back of the van, taking a seat on a built-in bench while Sam closed and locked the doors behind. Barry could hear Rosa and Scudder moving around the van, their shoes crunching on the gravel underneath them. He felt the vehicle rock as they took their seats, coming to life as Rosa turned the key. They pulled off away from the abandoned warehouse, and only then did Mark speak.

“We’re sorry,” he said. His voice was soft and quiet so that neither of the Rogues sitting up front in the separately enclosed space would hear through the van wall. “We didn’t know they were going to involve you.”

Barry wanted to scream that that didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter whether Mark did or did not want Barry involved because, either way, he wanted to see Len dead. That’s what he and Shawna were doing here. That’s what they had signed up for when they’d joined with Rosa and Sam. They were trying to kill the man Barry loved, the man who Barry had been so in-denial about loving for _so long_.

It hurt to think about all the moments they’d already missed because Barry was too darn stubborn. And, worse still, to think of the moment they might never share because Barry’s ‘ _friends_ ’ wanted to take Len away from him.

He wouldn’t let it come to that.

If it meant Len’s life or Barry’s identity… it was an easy call to make.

When Barry didn’t respond, Mark fell silent. In the still air, Barry’s mind had time to clear. He started thinking about his options. He _would_ give up his secret identity if it meant saving Len’s life, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Which meant that he had to play it smart again: no more stupid outbursts or rash decisions. He had to come up with a solid plan, had to think like Captain Cold if he was going to get through this with everyone still in one piece.

First thing’s first, assess the situation.

Well, the situation wasn’t great. Barry had no idea if Len had pieced together that he was missing yet. Hopefully, he hadn’t. Barry didn’t like to contemplate Len angry and pining alone in his house, thinking that Barry had just abandoned him, but at least that way, he would have _time_. No one else would be looking for him. Cait and Cisco wouldn’t think anything was out of the ordinary if Barry didn’t show up at the labs today, Iris and Eddie were probably blissfully unaware anything was wrong too, and both Joe and Wally were out at a baseball match in Keystone for the day. No one should know that Barry was gone yet. No one should be at risk of walking in on that trap anytime soon.

That meant that Barry still had time.

He sighed, momentarily calmed, but the breath caught in his throat. His ribs were still throbbing from where Scudder had landed a couple of blows earlier. It hurt a little to breathe deeply, so maybe one or two were cracked? At the very least, they were bruised. His face was sore, too, particularly his lip… Barry licked his tongue out at the area now and tasted the sharpness of blood there.

Crap.

Scudder must have busted Barry’s lip when he took the gun from him, but Barry had been too hyped up on anxiety and adrenaline to realise until now.

Barry’s body would prioritise healing his bruised ribs as the most severe issue… but it wouldn’t be long until his lip began to heal too. His captors would definitely notice that. Barry thought that maybe he’d be able to buy himself some time by gnawing at the swollen area every now and then, keeping the wound open. But he was bound to have a bruise forming on his jaw too, and that wouldn’t be as easy to keep going. Barry’s throat felt tight as he swallowed. He had maybe an hour before they’d piece together his ability to heal. Potentially less. Barry would have to be gone long before then.

This revelation came shortly before the van pulled to a stop, and the rear doors were swung open; the short trip had come to an end. Mark stepped out first, and Barry nudged his way towards the doors, which was challenging to do from the floor without the full use of his hands. They were parked outside another large building, maybe another warehouse or mill, though Barry couldn’t be sure.

As he stood from the van and was led closer, he noticed that the rain had stopped completely, the dregs of last night’s storm entirely over now. But the air was hot and sticky, and the wind still tasted like lightning. So, although one storm had passed, another was undoubtedly on the way.

[] [] []

“I brought this,” Iris said seconds after she’d stepped foot into the cortex, having barely even given Len and his Rogues a second glance. She chucked a sweatshirt Cisco’s way; it was one of the STAR Labs sweats which Barry liked to wear when working out.

“Jeez, you couldn’t have picked something a little less ripe?” Cisco complained, scrunching up his nose in distaste. Apparently, Barry had worn it _recently_ , though Len was sitting far enough away that he couldn’t smell the scent of dried-in sweat.

Iris shrugged, putting her hands on her hips. “I figured this would be better, you know? Have more _Barry_ on it for you to vibe.”

“I’m not a sniffer dog,” Cisco muttered. “Clean clothes work fine too.” At that, Mick gave a grunt of a laugh, and Cisco looked a little worried about Heatwave enjoying one of his jokes.

They were all in on the search: Len, Mick, Lisa, Cisco, Caitlin, and now Iris too were all hanging back in the cortex, hoping to find any clues to Barry’s whereabouts. Meanwhile, Firestorm and Detective Eddie Thawne were both out on the streets, scouting through their own methods. Lisa had told Len to bring the Rogues in on this too, but he hadn’t; not yet, not unless he had to. Lisa and Mick here were trouble enough, considering all of the heroes’ secrets that they were uncovering. Though, apparently, the pair already knew about Barry’s secret second job as the Flash, a fact which Cisco had filled Len in on right after they’d all agreed to bring in help for the search. Len hadn’t questioned that yet – nor had he asked how a couple of STAR Labs scientists knew about it before _he_ did.

He wanted to ask, but he had to prioritise Barry’s safety over this little discovery. So, he did.

“You get anything yet?” Lisa asked, impatient. It had only been a few seconds since Cisco had donned his Vibe glasses and closed his eyes, trying to pick up any trace of where Barry was and how he was doing. A few moments more passed, and Len was leaning forward in his seat in anticipation.

“I see him,” Cisco said, and there was a collective sigh throughout the room. “He looks like he’s been through the wars, though.” Cisco paused. “Looks like he dragged Mirror Master along with him.”

“Scudder?” Lisa asked. Her voice was heavily cloaked, but anger and surprise were brimming just under the surface. Close enough that Len could hear it, but he wasn’t so sure anyone other than Mick would be able to.

“Is there anyone else there?” Caitlin asked, and Cisco nodded.

“The Top and Weather Wizard.”

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Len swore.

His Rogues had taken Barry. Of course, they had. Who _else_ would it have been? To the outside world, Barry Allen was just an unassuming CSI with a public history of bad luck. No one but Len’s Rogues had a reason to kidnap him.

Which meant that this was Len’s fault.

“Where are they?” Mick demanded, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice like Lisa had. Mick didn’t do delicacies like that; if he was pissed, he didn’t shy away from letting the world know about it. And, right now, Mick was fuming.

“I…” Cisco shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s an old building, I think. But the room is pretty sparse. A warehouse, maybe?”

Well, that didn’t do much to narrow down the search. There were plenty of abandoned warehouses and factories dotted around Central, the relics of the industrial revolution that had long since faded. After the last fifty years or so, the city had become more tourist-friendly rather than industrial. However, the buildings still remained – derelict and all but forgotten.

“Do you see anything else?” Iris asked. “Anything at all?” Cisco’s shoulders slouched, and he pulled his visor back off of his face.

“Nothing.”

“What about his phone?” Iris pressed, refusing to give up. “Can we track his phone?”

“Already on it,” Caitlin said, a calming smile on her face as she comforted Iris with a touch to her arm. “But it’s been switched off. Cisco’s running a program to hack into Barry’s network and ping his last location. But it’s going to take a while. An hour, maybe longer.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we know someone who can do it in less than a minute,” Lisa announced, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Okay, look, I don’t care how good Hartley claims to be,” Cisco said, looking extremely put-upon. “There’s no way he could do that.”

“I was talking about myself,” Lisa laughed, and Len just stared at her. Since when had his sister become a hacker? She smirked, proud, and plucked her mobile out of her pocket. “Aren’t you glad I bugged Barry’s phone now?”

“You did _what_?” Len and Iris both demanded. And that was… weird. But Len didn’t have the energy to spare thinking on it after finding out that his sister had bugged his boyfriend!

His _fake_ boyfriend.

His…

His Barry.

“Oh, yes, you’re right. It is a pretty big invasion of privacy,” Lisa drawled, making a show out of locking her phone and lowering it back down to her side. “I guess we should just forget about the bug, and we can wait a few hours for Cisco to hack the NSA.”

“I’m not hacking the NSA,” Cisco defended, as though it mattered. “Though, actually, that might not be a bad idea.”

Len gritted his teeth to bite back his fury. Lisa had no right to bug Barry’s phone. No right!

But Len could admit that it very possibly could come in handy right now.

He didn’t _like_ to admit it, but he could.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

“Can’t wait,” Lisa said, unlocking her mobile once more and bringing up whatever app she had for the bug. Len was going to have _words_ with her about this tonight but, for now, he just bit his tongue as he waited. After a moment, Lisa had an address.

Everyone was instantly on the move: Cisco pulled his Vibe jacket and visor back on, Caitlin and Iris called their respective partners to fill them in, and Len dragged himself back up out of his chair.

“You up for this, Snart?” Mick asked, and Len felt bile at the back of his throat at the thought that he possibly _wasn’t_ up for this at all. Maybe he was too injured to go to Barry’s aid? That hurt, especially since it was _his_ fault that Barry was in danger in the first place.

But Len was going to do it anyway.

He was going to go, and he was going to protect the man he loved at all costs.

“Maybe you should sit this one out,” Iris said, placing her hand over the receiver on her mobile to speak to Len, surprising him with her concern. He hadn’t felt that she cared about him one way or the other. She probably didn’t. She probably just thought that he was a criminal up to no good and that one less Rogue in the field was for the best. But then she shocked Len even further by saying: “It would kill Barry if something happened to you.”

She knew as well?

That was…

Well, the thought that _Iris West_ was trying to protect Captain Cold – even if only for Barry’s sake – was a lot for Len to wrap his head around. But it was… It was kind of nice.

“I’ll be fine,” Len said, giving Iris an appreciative nod. These hero-types were really starting to spoil him, but Len found that he liked it.

“Then let’s go,” Cisco said, getting ready to open a portal – a _breach_ , apparently, they were called breaches; Len didn’t really care, but Cisco had been pretty insistent about getting the terminology right… the nerd – to the location of Barry’s phone.

Len tightened his grip on his cane and moved closer.

Their team didn’t have a plan, not really. But they didn’t have the time to wait around and brainstorm either.

Barry was in danger, so they had to go. They had to save him. _Len_ had to save him. And he would, or he’d die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops?
> 
> This was supposed to be a longer chapter, but I couldn’t get past the feeling that it needed to pause here. And the two people who I asked for advice gave me different answers, so I just decided to stick with my gut. But, because I’m feeling generous (and guilty), I’ll post the next chapter tomorrow to make up for this ending :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get ready to _RUMBLEEEE_

Cisco raised his fist and closed his eyes, not that it was all too easy to see that behind his Vibe glasses. He began scrunching up his nose, trying to concentrate. Len stood back, tense, as they all waited for the engineer-turned-superhero to open a breach to Barry’s location.

“Are you gonna get us out o’ here, L’Oréal?” Mick grumbled. “Or are you takin’ a dump?” Cisco opened his eyes again to glare at him, and Lisa jabbed Mick with her elbow for breaking Cisco’s concentration. Caitlin also threw her complaint into the mix while Iris rolled her eyes but didn’t pause the conversation that she was having on the phone with her fiancé about Barry’s location. Mick laughed.

Meanwhile, the tightness in Len’s chest only grew worse.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s hard to tell,” Mick said despite the group’s protests.

“Zip it, Mick,” Len snapped. He didn’t mean to be so blunt but, despite his cool nature, Len’s temperament can and did run hot when he was stressed. And right now, Len felt so uptight that he could barely breathe.

Mick didn’t appreciate Len barking orders at him, though. So, Len knew he’d hear no end of this later once they were away from the company of heroes. But right now, while they were on the job, Mick just fell quiet.

Len turned to face Cisco. “Take us to Barry.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a new voice said, appearing in the doorway. Shawna’s sudden appearance made team Flash all jump or flinch away, but not Len and his Rogues. It took a hell of a lot more than Shawna Baez to make him lose his cool.

Admittedly, his hand did unconsciously twitch towards the cold gun strapped to his thigh. But he didn’t finish the action.

Not yet.

Len knew that the odds of Shawna being on their side while Mark was on Scudder’s was slim to none, but he didn’t want to give away what they did and did not know just yet.

“What are you doing here?” Len asked, calm, quizzical, but nothing more.

Shawna glanced around the room at everyone standing tense and uncertain. Finally, her eyes landed back on Len. She looked… worried.

“I know where Barry is,” she said, “and he’s _not_ with his phone.” Len waited Shawna out, not taking his eyes off of her even as the members of Team Flash foolishly looked to each other for guidance. Len could see their wariness from the corner of his eye, but he would be a fool to so much as glance away from Peek-a-Boo. He barely even wanted to blink. Shawna could move rapidly in the space of a thought, teleporting anywhere she could lay her eyes on. Len needed to watch her carefully for even the slightest tell that she was going to make a move. “The only things you’ll find in that warehouse are a half a dozen bombs rigged to blow and a few power dampeners scattered around for good measure. It’s a trap.”

At that, Caitlin breathed out her husband’s name, panicked, before she rushed into the side room to get back in touch with Firestorm and warn them away from entering the warehouse. Iris, surprisingly, didn’t follow suit. Her phone was nowhere to be seen, though Len knew there must have been a reason for that.

Cisco, his identity still concealed as Vibe, looked as though he was about to speak. But Lisa cut him off.

“And you know this because…?” she asked Shawna, playing dumb while keeping the conversation on track.

“Sam and Rosa have him. And they think we’re working with them.”

“Are you?” Len asked. Finally, he moved his hand to the grip of his cold gun, charging and aiming it with a flick of his wrist. Lisa and Mick both echoed his movements while the good guys in the room stepped back out of the way.

“Not anymore,” Shawna said, shaking her head. Her worry was momentarily replaced with a twitch of annoyance, a slight scowl pulling at her lips, though her eyes remained the same. So, either she was a spectacular actress trying to get Len warm to her, or she didn’t feel the same anger as she was about to describe anymore. “Look, that video of you working with the Flash pissed us off, okay. Rosa came to us with a plan, so we agreed to hear her out. But she didn’t say anything about hurting my friend.”

“Barry’s hurt?” Iris asked, voicing the fear that Len couldn’t allow himself to show. Shawna’s scowl turned into a wince, and the worry was back full force.

“Not yet, but I don’t trust that it’s going to stay that way for long.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Lisa said, “you were okay with betraying _us_ , but not Barry?”

Shawna didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

“Can I shoot her now?” Mick grunted. Though the fact that he’d spoken those words in the first place showed that he already knew the answer. He just didn’t like it.

“No,” Len answered. Slowly, he lowered the cold gun back to his side. He didn’t power it down, though, nor did he store it away or let his finger move any further away from the trigger. It was ready to go if needed. “Take us to him,” Len said to Shawna, “and we’ll forget all about this little coo.”

“Snart…”

“I don’t care,” Len said, ignoring the warning in Mick’s voice. He didn’t care what Shawna had done. He didn’t care so long as Barry wasn’t hurt. “You help us make sure that Barry’s safe, and we’ll call it square.”

Shawna nodded, looking a little more relaxed, but Len still wasn’t sure whether to buy it or not.

“The, uh, Flash is a little tied-up right now,” Cisco – Vibe – said, and Len generally appreciated a good pun, but not today. “But Firestorm and I are–”

“No,” Shawna interrupted, the anger was back in her voice now. “Look, I was willing to come here and give you the benefit of the doubt because she–” Shawna pointed her hand directly at Caitlin, who was just now returning to the room “–is Barry’s friend.” Iris wrapped her arm around Caitlin, silently asking if she’d got through to Ronnie, and Caitlin nodded. Len saw it all out of the corner of his eye and was surprised to feel relieved. He hadn’t realised until right now how much he was beginning to like Barry’s friends. “And I like Barry. But I don’t trust you or your hero pals, and I can’t work with people who I can’t trust.”

“But we’re the good guys!” Cisco complained. Len felt like rolling his eyes, but that would have meant taking them off of Shawna, so he didn’t.

“Do I need to remind you that you locked me into solitary confinement for three months and nearly shipped me off to an abandoned island?”

“We’re sorry,” Caitlin said earnestly. She took a step forward, and Iris looked to be trying to stop her, but Caitlin just shrugged it off. Len’s jaw was clamped up tense. He still wasn’t putting the gun away. “What we did was wrong. We can see that now.”

“I still can’t work with you.”

“But –”

“She’s right, Cisco,” Lisa cut him off. “This is Rogues business.”

There was a long, drawn-out moment. The room was still but far from calm. Finally, Iris spoke up.

“You’re not going to kill them, are you?”

She sounded cautious as she spoke, and Len didn’t blame her for that. It was no secret that he had killed before, many, many times. He’d even tried to kill Sam and Rosa once when he’d decided they weren’t fit to be on his team. Len _would_ have killed Sam and Rosa that day, too, if not for the particle accelerator blowing.

Len wondered now, and not for the first time, if it wouldn’t have just been better if he’d succeeded at it then. If he had, Barry wouldn’t be held up in some derelict safe house, looking like he’d ‘ _gone through the wars_ ’, as Cisco had put it…

But, regardless of who Rosa and Sam were, and regardless of what they had done. Barry wouldn’t appreciate Len going back to killing again, not even his kidnappers.

After a long moment, Len sighed. “No.”

“What?!” Mick demanded, apparently unhappy with that. And Lisa also didn’t look too pleased. Everyone else was giving him varying looks of surprise and relief – even Shawna.

“We don’t kill people anymore,” Len reminded his Rogues. “Not unless we have to.”

“You know they’ll blab about your lil boyfriend the secon’ they’re locked up, right?”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Len said. He didn’t know _how_ they would deal with it, but they would. Mick didn’t kick up any more arguments after that, so Len turned back to Shawna, gesturing towards the doorway. “After you.”

Shawna nodded, turned around, and began to leave, Lisa and Mick not far behind while Len hung back until last. The second that Shawna was out of sight, he turned to Cisco and made a show of picking the covert earbuds up out of his parka pocket and putting them in; they were the same ones that Team Flash had given Len a couple of weeks ago when he’d first started helping out with the Fries case. Cisco hadn’t said there was anything special about them, acting as though they were just a standard comms unit, but Len was willing to bet the team had _some_ way of tracking them. And Len needed that now. _Just in case_ Shawna wasn’t being entirely forthcoming with them.

Cisco gave Len a solid thumbs-up, silently telling him that they’d be there to back him up if things went sour. And Iris copied the sentiment by showing Len her phone screen, revealing that she’d had Eddie on speaker for the entire time.

Len only nodded as he limped backwards and followed his Rogues out through the door, leaving Team Flash behind.

[] [] []

“Seems like you two are on the rocks,” Rosa said, having spent the past five minutes talking about what she’d overheard of his phone call to Len outside the bar last night. She was sitting directly in front of Barry, stretching out her legs and looking pretty happy with herself. Behind her, Scudder – now dressed in a new clean suit, all mud washed from his hair and face, unlike Barry, who was still caked in it – was showing off the last one of his power dampening devices to Mark.

Apparently, they’d kept one back for future use against the Flash.

Perfect.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” Rosa continued, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. “What happened? No, actually, let me guess… it was _your_ idea for Snart to work with the Flash?” Barry just glared at her, not that he could have answered since they’d put the gag back in his mouth. Rosa smiled. “Thought so. Well, I guess I owe you my gratitude. If it weren’t for you, we might not have been able to make our move.”

Her words felt like acid in Barry’s lungs because he knew they were the truth.

This, all of this, was Barry’s fault.

He was the reason Len had been at that bank. He was the reason Len got injured. He was the reason the Rogues had turned on them.

And, from the look of giddiness in Rosa’s eyes, it seemed that Barry wasn’t doing a great job at hiding his guilt.

Rosa stood up from her chair then and sauntered away, seemingly pleased with Barry’s internal turmoil. She went up to Mark and draped herself over Sam’s shoulder. The second her back was turned, Barry tried clamping his teeth down hard on his bottom lip. However, the cloth in his mouth was making it difficult for him to work the wound back open. Which was not good. Barry’s ribs were already feeling a lot better, and he knew it was just a matter of time until his face followed suit. Soon, his lip would heal. And then Barry’s secret would be out.

“Where’s Shawna?” Rosa asked. “I’m starving.” Barry, for once, agreed with Rosa. Not that he could voice that.

“She’ll be here soon,” Mark promised, still examining the meta power dampener, which was making Barry increasingly anxious. They’d been messing with that thing for a little while now, flicking it on and off to test it out. But if they accidentally switched it on again and left it that way without realising, then Barry’s chance of escape was slim to none. “She texted a few minutes ago. Apparently, there was a queue of hungover frat boys in front of her. But she’s on her way.”

“Good,” Sam nodded. “We need to get back to work.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mark said. And only a couple of seconds later, there was the sound of movement in the next room over.

“Pancake delivery,” Shawna’s voice called through the door. “And waffles too.”

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” Rosa laughed, heading towards the door to beckon Shawna inside. Barry wondered if his time to escape was coming; perhaps while everyone was eating their breakfasts, he might be able to make a break for the door? He’d have to play it smart, though. He couldn’t do anything on impulse like he had done before.

“I’ll do you a favour and won’t tell Shawna you said that,” Mark laughed. Rosa opened the door, all smiles, and then immediately dove to the floor, narrowly dodging a blast of cold, white flame which settled as solid ice on any surface it touched.

The cold gun.

Barry’s heart leapt into his throat: Len was here!

Scudder reached for his firearm, and Mark responded by smashing the power dampener down on the back of Sam’s head, breaking it in two. Scudder wasn’t down for long, though. He hit back, and he hit back hard.

The Rogues were storming into the room now; first Lisa, then Mick, their gold and heat guns already firing at Rosa as she fought back with her powers and her fists. Barry was only a moment away from phasing out of his ropes and joining the fight when Shawna appeared suddenly in front of him. Barry jumped back in surprise. His first instinct when she reached for him was to pull away. But Mark and Shawna… they were on his side.

Barry felt terrible for ever doubting them.

Shawna pulled the towel away that had been wrapped around Barry’s mouth, and he gave her a thankful smile for it.

Though Barry’s attention was quickly drawn back towards the doorway as Len stepped into the room. He was still injured and limping, but he was able to move faster with the cane in his hand. Barry just hoped that would be enough.

Scudder was making a run for a mirror resting against one of the walls, having knocked Mark momentarily to the ground. But Len fired his cold gun and covered the reflective surface entirely in brittle ice. Sam had no way out.

He charged at Len in retaliation, and Barry tensed. He pulled against his binds, even as Shawna struggled to untie him from the chair. But, injured or not, Len was one hell of a fighter. He used his cold gun to guide Scudder exactly where he wanted him, Mick joining in with his heat gun too. And the second that Sam was within range, Len lunged with his cane.

The blow would have landed and sent Scudder to the floor. But Rosa had her boyfriend’s back, using her powers on Len until he stumbled and nearly toppled over.

Mick caught Len’s arm to keep him standing while Sam was able to scurry for cover. But Rosa’s divided concentration was enough that Lisa was able to get a few good hits on her. Combined with Mark’s power to summon a strong gust of wind, they knocked Rosa to the ground.

But before they could knock her out, Sam was back with his gun in his hand.

He fired one bullet at Mark, making Shawna flinch and cast a worried glance over her shoulder. But Mark ducked in time to avoid getting hit. Shawna turned back to Barry, pulling away at the ropes binding his wrists to the arms of the chair while Barry’s eyes kept tracking the fight, his heart racing and jumping up into his throat.

Scudder turned to fire at Len. But Mick kicked a nearby table down onto its side and pulled Len down with him for cover. So, Sam aimed the gun at the only other person he had a clear shot of: Shawna

Barry saw him pull the trigger. He heard the sound of a gunshot echoing through the room. Then the world slowed, everyone and everything becoming completely immobile. The gun was aimed at the back of Shawna’s head, but she couldn’t see that. She was still bent down, trying to undo Barry’s ties, and didn’t know that she needed to teleport to safety. Mark was on the offence and sending a whirlwind Sam’s way, but it was too late as the bullet was spat out of the gun, already en route.

Barry didn’t have any option but to move now to save his friend’s life.

So, that’s what he did.

With lightning licking at Barry’s heals, he phased through his ties, grabbed Shawna, and zipped her safely out of the way. Barry pushed her down onto the floor as the room sped up again, the bullet from Scudder’s firearm planting itself into the wall right behind where Shawna’s head had been.

Shawna gasped in surprise, pulling her arms out of Barry’s grip as she realised what he had just done. As she realised _how_ he had done it.

Barry looked over his shoulder as the struggle continued on in the room, though Mark had succeeded in taking down Scudder, and Rosa looked as though she didn’t have much fight left in her. No one appeared to have noticed Barry using his powers. If they’d seen anything at all, then they probably just assumed Shawna had blipped them both out of the way.

Only Shawna knew the truth, and she was frozen in surprise on the ground next to him.

She looked betrayed.

“I’m sorry,” Barry whispered because what else could he say? Shawna didn’t respond. She just stared back at him with those big shocked eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“ _Barry_!” Len called, and when Barry looked back over his shoulder, he saw that that fight was over. Lisa had Rosa pinned to the floor, and Mick was leaning over Scudder with his heat gun charged, aimed, and ready to fire at even the slightest twitch.

And Len was between them both, glancing around the room, looking for him.

Barry stood, and they made eye contact, and it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore. It didn’t matter who else was in the room now. It didn’t matter that Shawna was still gaping at him from the floor.

All that mattered was that Len was there.

Barry had never wanted to run so much in his life. But not away, not this time. Barry wanted to run _to_ Len. But instead, he had to walk, his steps taking far, _far_ too long until he was by Len’s side. He brought both of his hands up to cup Len’s face. Barry had so much to say, so much that he didn’t even know where to begin. And Len seemed to be at a loss for words too.

Idly, Barry realised that he probably looked an absolute _mess_. He had a split lip and a bruised jaw and was covered in mud. His hair was tangled, he was still wearing last night’s clothes, and he definitely stank since it had been so long since his last shower… But Len didn’t seem to care.

Len’s eyes were so beautiful up close, so startlingly blue as they traced Barry’s features with a look of… of adoration… of love.

Barry couldn’t take one more second of it as he pushed his way that one last step into Len’s space and brought their lips together, not even caring about his cut there.

Len sighed against Barry’s mouth, his whole body relaxing into Barry’s embrace. He dropped his cane to the ground, the wood clattering loudly against the hard floor, the sound of it echoing through the room. But it didn’t bother Barry as Len used his – now free – hand to wrap around Barry’s dirt-covered waist, hugging him tightly.

Len’s tongue licked out against Barry’s lips, and Barry opened his mouth invitingly. He leant in even closer, desperate for more. More of Len. More of everything.

It was about then that Mick and Lisa started hooting and hollering in the background.

Barry couldn’t help his laugh, and the kiss broke because of it. But neither of them pulled away very far. Barry kept his eyes closed as he leant his forehead down and rested it against Len’s. He slipped his hands from where they had been cupping Len’s jaw, slinging his arms fully over Len’s shoulders and hugging him close.

He still didn’t open his eyes. Barry just kept on smiling, breathing in deeply and inhaling that sweet scent of sandalwood that always clung to Len’s skin.

“I love you,” Barry whispered. And perhaps it wasn’t the right time for that; maybe Barry should have waited until they weren’t surrounded by the Rogues, maybe he should have made it more special… But he just had to say it. _Now_. Before anything else could get in their way.

Len’s breath hitched at Barry’s confession like he wasn’t expecting it. He probably hadn’t been. With the way that Barry had treated Len lately… God, he had so much to apologise for. So much to make up for.

“I love you, too,” Len said, his voice so soft and warm. Barry laughed, feeling light as air like a weight had just been pulled off his chest.

“Cute,” Mick muttered behind him, but Barry ignored it. “Can we go now?”

“Shush,” Lisa stage-whispered, “they’re having a moment.”

And then Barry kissed Len again. Because why the hell not!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been promising that Len and Barry would get together “soon” since chapter 13 and. It. Finally. _Happened_!  
> I bet you were starting to think this moment would never happen XD
> 
> Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter :)
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to say sorry for not including more Rogues in this fight. I wanted to use them all (especially Hartley)... but writing fight scenes between so many people is very difficult. So I just stuck to the bare minimum :(
> 
> ~~EDIT 2 (15.9.20): Sorry for the delay in posting the next chapter. I have other commitments that I need to focus on right now, so you might not see another update until October :(~~
> 
> EDIT 3 (14.12.20): So the 'other commitments' have ended (they were my Coldflash Bang fics and art), but I'm just not in a good place physically or mentally right now to write, so it's going to be a little longer before the final few chapters are done for this story. I had hoped to have it complete for Christmas, and that is still possible... but not very likely. I do love this fic, and I can't wait to return, but I don't want to force myself to write and have the ending turn out terrible because of it. You'll just have to bear with me for a little longer :)


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